My Little Girl
by bpfatcat
Summary: "Love isn't always enough. I've spent my whole magical life fighting to make a better world for everyone else. Now, more than ever, that means our children." Rated M for language and some later mature content. Sequel now up!
1. Prologue

**A/N This is my first multi-chapter fic; I was so overwhelmed with my response to my first one, I couldn't believe it! So I thought I'd take a chance and attempt a longer story. Thank you to everyone who took the time to review my one-shot, and please feel free to look at this one too.**

 **Disclaimer; Everything you recognise belongs to dearest JKR.**

 **Prologue**

The moon hung high in the sky, and she was walking along a seemingly empty beach, when she heard it. The tiniest sound of a 'pop' that meant that someone nearby had just apparated. Perhaps if she had not lived through the war, she might not have noticed, but she instinctively drew her wand from its harness on her wrist, immediately preparing herself for fight or flight. Her eyes narrowed, reluctant at revealing where she was with 'lumos', and she instead cast a quick disillusionment charm.

Creeping across the beach until she no longer heard the stranger, she allowed herself a breath of relief. "They're gone." She thought, though out of habit she kept up her invisibility, as she headed silently into the forest that disguised her cottage. But then-

The slightest rustling in the leaves, the snap of a branch; she had spent days dreading these, and now, someone was clamouring through the forest outside her wards. To say she was unnerved would be an understatement, but she followed regardless, and with silencing charms, tracked through the trees behind them.

"I can feel your magic, you know." Said the person she was following, and she stumbled back, terrified, as the voice growled, "And I can smell you too..." She saw a face as she turned around, with wild hair, a scar-ridden face, and feral amber eyes. And she promptly disapparated. 


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

 _Six months earlier..._

Hermione Granger arrived in Devon with a smile on her face, eager to visit her home-away-from-home, and her second family. However, the smile was quickly wiped away as she heard the raised voice of Mrs Weasley through the Burrow's open window, clearly in yet another argument with one of her children. She half considered turning heel and returning to her London flat, but before she could decide, the front door banged open and an irritated Weasley stormed out, yelling behind them, "I told you, I don't want to talk about it mum!"

He was muttering to himself as he took long strides towards the point where he could apparate away, and didn't seem to see her there until nearly walking into her. "Oh," he exclaimed, surprised, "hi Hermione. Sorry, didn't notice you there."  
She returned with a small shrug, weak smile and a voice that was at least an octave higher than usual. "Hiya, worry, don't Bill about it." Flushing from her sandals to tips of her bushy hair, she corrected herself, refusing to look at his amused smirk.

As she had grown herself over the years, she had started to appreciate each Weasley brother individually, and found that Charlie was a fantastic story-teller, Percy a passionate debater, and George was, despite his remaining melancholy, irreplaceable when it came to listening and advice. Of course, she and Ginny had long been fast friends, and Ron would always hold a special, if brotherly, place in her heart. But none of them could compare to the immediate and, frankly, alarming attraction she had quickly developed for Bill.

They had started up an easy and happy friendship as she spent more time with the Weasleys following the war, supporting them in their loss and accepting their support in her own pain. She had needed their help with the loss of Remus, Tonks, and the constant guilt she felt for Dobby, but more than anyone else, he had understood about the remaining pain she felt at the loss of her parents, and had been invaluable in helping her. More than any other, she found that Bill had been able to help in distracting, stimulating and comforting her, though she had always attempted to keep her distance so as not to intrude on his family values. However, in the six years that had brought them closer, she had found herself unable to avoid becoming attracted to him, and in the months that she had left recently, she found herself missing him as much as Harry, Ron and Ginny.

She couldn't help herself around him; he was intelligent, handsome, and infuriatingly taken. He read almost as much as her, but his years as a Curse-Breaker showed a flair for adventure too that she, much as she might deny it, also held. This led to spirited arguments and quiet reminiscing in equal amounts, and she had quite frequently found herself wasting hours at a time talking with him. And of course, it did not help her ridiculous infatuation that he was devilishly good-looking; tall with defined muscles, his trademark fang earring, rebellious hair, and traditionally cheeky Weasley grin. Even the scars that he bore on his face only made him seem more attractive to her; she knew what it was like to bear scars and the stories behind them, and merely thought him all the more brave for them.

Clearing her throat and still gazing determinedly away from the eldest Weasley, hoping beyond hope that he would ignore her blushing cheeks, she attempted a casual voice. "Problems with your mum?"  
He growled deep in his throat, and his mirth was clouded over. "She still wants me to try to speak again to Phlegm." He bit out. She blinked in confusion, and he gave a bitter smile. "Oh, but you won't know, will you?" Mutely shaking her head, he proceeded to walk with her around the nearby orchard, telling her of his now soon-to-be-ex-wife's years of promiscuity, including at least five when married, and her flight to France with her four year old daughter. "That's what my mum was yelling about; trying to convince me to talk to Fleur about finding out who the father is. I don't even know if Victoire is mine."

For the first time in his rant, he sounded devastated, and slumped back against the nearest tree, head hanging with exhaustion. "Fleur said she wanted to feel normal sometimes, and I'm not normal anymore." He admitted quietly. "Said she thought she could handle this," he gestured vaguely at his scar-marked face, "but that it became too much for her. I was too damaged for her to deal with."  
Hermione felt her heart swell. "Bill, I'm so sorry."  
He offered her a weak smile in return. "Thanks. Sorry for offloading on you like this, but it was the full moon last night and I'm always a little, er, sensitive after the moon."  
"You don't have to apologise."

And it was the truth. Seeing him rage and swear before finally collapsing didn't make Hermione think any less of him. On the contrary, she found herself falling more and more for the older man, wanting to heal his wounds and mend his heart, whilst simultaneously murdering a certain Phlegm Delacour. She took one of his hands in her own and gazed into his confused eyes. "You're not damaged." She stated bluntly. "There's nothing wrong with you. But she was right about one thing; you're not normal either. You're extraordinary; intelligent, courageous, fun, loyal and ridiculously handsome, and if she can't see that, then it's her loss."

Bill's mouth had dropped open at some point, and he stared at her uncomprehendingly. She offered him a small smile before stepping back and turning to walk away. "I'd better go, your mum was expecting me twenty minutes ago." Bill snapped his mouth shut and blinked a few times, tilting his head to the side and pondering the woman's softly spoken words.

...

It had been a poorly told lie, Hermione thought as she tried to stop herself from sprinting away from the attractive man. Other than her strict meal-schedule and past exasperation in attempting to get them to King's Cross on time, she didn't think Mrs Weasley had once cared for time-keeping, much preferring that her children, blood and surrogate, knew that they could simply drop in whenever they liked. But as her face burned with humiliation, she knew that she had had to make a quick escape from Bill. Her words swam through her mind as she furiously muttered, "Well now, why didn't I just get down on bended knee and confess that I think he's damn near perfect? He's bound to know now anyway. He's sure to realise that his little brother's best friend wants to hold him then shag him six ways to Sunday. Idiot Hermione, idiot, idiot, idiot!"

She was still scolding herself as her feet automatically took her to the Burrow, and Mrs Weasley was rather alarmed to find her usually level-headed as-good-as-daughter violently berating herself. Dropping the pans she had been about to put in the sink, she immediately walked swiftly over to the bushy haired girl and, after a swift hug, demanded to know what had happened to upset her. The resulting clang of the dirty metal hitting the floor was enough to drag her from her melancholic ramblings however, and she interrupted the matriarch's concern with another, harder, hug. She hadn't realised quite how much she had missed the short, bossy red-head until she felt tears of happiness prick at her eyes.

"Now, now," Molly said, tutting quietly and brushing Hermione's tears away, "none of that, dear. You go through and I'll get us some biscuits." Giving a watery smile, she immediately obeyed, looking fondly around her magical childhood home, from the self-knitting jumpers to the gnome mischievously peeking it's head through a window. Her heart fell, however, when she spotted the Weasley's old clock from around a corner, knowing that the place next to George's picture, where Fred used to reside, would be ominously empty. It had been six long years since the Final Battle, but she still found it difficult to believe that the laughing prankster had fallen, the last smile on his face mocking the world. Her spirits lifted though, as she finished rounding the turn and saw that, though the face was home to only one twin, Fred's picture had been enlarged and stood in pride of place in the middle of the mantelpiece. He gave his cheeky smile upon seeing her and winked, and she grinned back at him. Promptly, she saw George leave his small frame on the clock, to appear moments later besides his twin, though the small circle that was his image's home remained pointed to 'Work'.

"All right Granger?" Fred called merrily, and her smile grew, though tinged with a hint of sadness. "Oi, Granger, don't get all weepy on us." He said warningly, whilst George remained silently smiling besides his twin, unable to speak before death.  
"I miss you Forge." She replied quietly, once again growing weepy.  
He gave her a kind look. "Come on, bookworm extrodinaire crying over a trouble-maker like me? You know I wouldn't want people upset, as I've had to frequently remind my less-attractive twin here." George elbowed him playfully, but the twinkle in his eye betrayed his scowl.  
"I know, but it's just- I meaning seeing the two of you, it's- And knowing that you're-" She seemed unable to form a full sentence, but the knowing look in the man's eyes assured her that he knew what she couldn't say.  
"'Mione," he started softly, "I'm not going to lie; there were a lot of things I still wanted to do, a lot of places to see, people to annoy, pranks to pull." He gave a weak attempt at a smirk, but it came across rather as a grimace. "But I would happily die again for the world I helped give my friends, my family, my twin. We were all too young to be in a war, really, but knowing that everyone I care about can live their lives in a free world, happy, makes it worthwhile."  
The tears streaked down her face freely now, and she made no move to wipe them away. "You were -are- a great man Fred Weasley." She told him earnestly, not moving her eyes from his painted ones. "I love you Fred."  
"Love you too Hermione."

...

"Sorry it took so long, dear, they're just fresh out of the oven and I wanted to-" Molly started, but her words died in her throat as she took in the scene before her; the physical memory of her son smiling kindly to a once-more teary Hermione, who turned to face her with a small smile on her lips. "We've been saving up to get the portrait made, it was just finished last month. We thought he'd like to be there, watching over everyone." Molly explained quietly, and accepted Hermione's embrace warmly.  
"I think it's perfect." She reassured, unable to hide her grin as Fred, whispering conspiratorially to George, sent her a small wink and raised a finger to his lips whilst pointing at the woman she hugged. The sign that she immediately recognised as 'Don't tell mum, but we're probably up to something that will get us into a lot of trouble' was achingly familiar to her, but she felt somehow more content after speaking to his portrait, and infinitely glad that the Weasleys had had it made.

Following Mrs Weasley through to the garden, where they basked in the unusual spring warmth, eating the predictably delicious home-made biscuits and sipping on iced pumpkin juice, her mind was at ease and she felt relatively careless. After a few minutes, Molly caught her eye and asked softly, "So, dear, what had you so upset earlier? It wasn't to do with, erm, your parents, was it?" She seemed nervous at asking, obviously concerned that her worries might upset Hermione further, and the young woman inwardly cringed.  
"No, no!" She cried, whilst mentally scolding herself over her previous performance; surely her unusually childish behaviour over a man, of all things, would put even Lavender Brown to shame. "No," she repeated, a little more calmly, "I found them, they're safe and sound. A little upset, well, very upset, about what I did, but mostly grateful that I'm okay." For this was the reason for her almost four month long absence: finding and restoring the memories of Monica and Wendell Wilkins, aka her parents.  
Her second mother patted her arm and looked at her fondly. "How wonderful, I'm so glad you found them. Are they coming back here, or staying in Australia?"  
"They need to sort out a few things down there, but they hope to come home within a couple of months. They really want to be here for my birthday, as they missed my last few. Well, they didn't even know I existed for them." She frowned slightly at her last words, distinctly remembering her parents' anger and horror at her actions the summer seven years prior, but Molly's excitement soon had her grinning again.  
"Oh, we can have it here, if you'd like! We never did have a celebration for your seventeenth, and I'm sure they'll want a belated party for your eighteenth; isn't that the year you come of age for Muggles? We could have a joint celebration, make sure to get everyone round, and Arthur will be so pleased to see your mum and dad again. And, of course, anyone else you'd like to invite from the Muggle world would be more than welcome; we'll find a way to hide the magic. Ooh, and you can see little Teddy again, he's grown so big! And Victoire is looking more and more beautiful everyday, Fleur swears-"

She abruptly stopped after speaking her daughter-in-law's name, and her face bore the familiar scowl that meant she was unhappy with one of her children (or on occasion, her husband). "That boy," she muttered frustratedly, "not even speaking to the woman. I told him, I told him he rushed into the marriage because of the war. I knew she would be no good for him. But no, he went ahead with it anyway. I swear all men think with their-"  
"I, uh, ran into Bill before," Hermione swiftly interrupted, "he seemed quite distressed."  
Molly gave her a saddened look. "He refuses to speak to her, even concerning Victoire. I suppose he hopes that she'll come to her senses and return to Britain, so they can set up some arrangement regarding her. He probably can't bring himself to see her face right now, not that I can blame him." She added the last part darkly, her face clouding over with anger at the woman now known to all Weasleys (and extras) as Phlegm.  
Hermione gnawed on her lower lip. "But I thought he wasn't sure that Victoire was his?" She asked with a little trepidation at Mrs Weasley's reaction, but to her relief and sadness, she was answered not with an indignant rant, but with a sorrow-filled half smile.  
"He cared for her mother when she was pregnant, worked twice as hard to earn enough money to give her a happy childhood, spent countless nights reading to her, even when she was just a small bump. He held her mother's hand during birth and, though she did manage to fracture three of his knuckles, had the widest smile I have ever seen him bear when holding her for the first time. Then he cherished her; barely spending five minutes away from her, falling asleep on uncomfortable chairs because he didn't want to disturb her as she slept. It doesn't matter if he's her father by blood. He loves that little girl, and he is her Daddy. And he'll never forgive himself if he lets that bitch take Victoire away from him."


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N I don't own anything, the Goddess Rowling does, but you can dream!  
**

 **Chapter 2**

Following her first visit to the Burrow since returning, Hermione quickly fell into the habit that the other Weasleys and partners shared; expect constant unannounced floo visits from Molly bearing food, equally frequent owls demanding to know the state of their health, and Sunday lunches that one had to attend, lest they risk the wrath of the, at times terrifying, matriarch. The majority of the people attending these meals seemed to enjoy them, and though George still became damp-eyed as his late twin scolded his sadness, Hermione was always there to give a shoulder to cry on or a simple hug. Between her and the rest of his family, they usually managed to pull him out of his morose state by the end of the meal, and he seemed to find especially great comfort in having such large groups around him, which Hermione could very well relate to. Mr and Mrs Weasley, Charlie, returned to Britain but still single and burnt (much to the worry of Molly), Percy and his surprisingly laid-back fiancée Audrey, George and the ever-supportive Angelina, Ron, alone, but with his somewhat unnerving disregard for Hermione's personal space, and of course Ginny and Harry, the original Golden Couple, made up the entirety of their usual group. Excepting, of course, the constant dark cloud, almost as upset as George when he saw Fred's picture, who took it's shape in the form of William Weasley.

Still determined to not speak to Phlegm, and living in hope that she may show some of the compassion she had after his attack, his eyes were constantly down-turned, obviously in thought of the girl he considered to be his daughter. Bill rarely added to conversation, speaking only when asked a direct question (though he had gone out of his way to apologise for not enquiring as to her parents' health when she returned), and the family tended to let him wallow in his grief and anger. Even Molly restricted herself to less than ten un-approving looks per meal. But after a few weeks following this theme, Hermione had had enough of seeing Bill's upset expression.

"So, Bill, how was your week?" She asked loudly one Sunday, causing all other speech to halt.  
"Fine." He replied sullenly, still bent over his plate, though he did give her a confused look through his eyelashes at the question.  
"Anything exciting happen?"  
"No."  
"Oh come on, you work with goblins, surely something interesting must have happened."  
By this point everyone around the extended table was looking at her in confusion and interest, but she had eyes only for the ponytail bearing red-head. He lifted his head and his piercing eyes almost made her lower her own, but she was nothing if not stubborn, and met his gaze fiercely, one eyebrow slowly rising in a silent challenge. A smirk that had not graced his lips for quite some time slowly grew as their eyes remained locked over the table, until a short laugh escaped him, and he regaled them with a story of a young goblin apprentice whose fingers were not long enough to open one of the vaults, but far too proud to ask for assistance (as most goblins are) leaving him swearing for hours at the metal door . As he spoke Hermione discreetly caught Arthur's eye and her grin grew as he gave her an appreciative and respectful nod and wink. Bill fell silent after his amusing tale, and returned to his quiet state, but the mood was considerably lightened, and he even managed a small smile as he listened to George's rare tales of new joke products and pranks.

From that day onwards, whether accidental or, as Hermione suspected, deliberate, she always found herself next to or opposite Bill when they had family meals. Even when Mr Weasley insisted on throwing a return party for her parents (entirely Muggle Britain themed and including haggis, Guinness and bara brith), she found herself wedged between her mother and father, and directly opposite Bill. Her mum and dad seemed to enjoy his tales of adventure into tombs and compared him to Indiana Jones, leading to an entertaining attempt to explain the stories of the explorer. Following this, Arthur enthusiastically told the table about a brilliant film he saw on a Muggle 'telebivison' called 'Star Wars', in which not only did people fly in aeroplanes, but in space ships! Flying through space! The Grangers all laughed at the amazed expression on the wizard's face, but as Hermione drew her eyes from the Weasley at the head of the table to subtly (or so she thought) look at the eldest child, she found his blue eyes twinkling amusingly at her. Feeling the all too frequent blush that seemed to always adorn her face around Bill heat her skin, she swiftly averted his gaze and attempted to explain the logic of the Ewok's rebellion, and that they were not, in fact, magical teddy bears.

"No Mr Weasley," Hermione patiently repeated, "they're not magic; they're just people."  
His face brightened. "Oh, so they're transfigured? Or animagi?"  
She smiled indulgently whilst her parent's looked befuddled. "No, they're humans inside outfits, Mr Weasley, it's what Muggles do a lot of the time in movies."  
Arthur looked lost. "But why don't they use polyjuice potion?"  
Hermione had to bite back her laugh, and out of the corner of her eye, saw Bill doing the same. "Well they can't, so they invent their own kind of magic."  
He laughed and commented on the ingenuity of Muggles, but Hermione only had eyes for the amused and grinning man opposite her. So caught in the fact that she had, once again, caused Bill mirth, she missed the small, knowing smile her mother graced the pair with, and the disapproving, overly paternal, scowl her father threw across the table.

Hermione was not at all against spending so much time with Bill, though it was in equal amounts enjoyable and uncomfortable. The determination to seem comforting around him, yet only in a friendly, platonic way, seemed non-existent in his presence. In fact, as she watched him casually remove his top during a particularly rigorous Quidditch game with the family, and throw it to the side with his well formed muscles, she felt her mouth become quickly parched, and had to down her lemonade when he came over to her and asked her, with a wink, to look after his shirt. It took Mrs Weasley four times of yelling to the young woman before she snapped out of her trance to mumble "No, thank you," without any idea what she had been asked.  
"Are you sure dear?" The older witch asked with a coyly raised eyebrow.  
Looking from her amused expression to the pitcher of lemonade Mrs Weasley was bearing, she muttered a quiet thank you as she accepted a refill of her glass. Quickly reburying her nose in the book she was trying to read, she missed the small smile Molly threw her way and Bill's lingering gaze from high above. Her eyes continuously and mutinously raised from the words before her into the sky, to watch the flying forms, or one flying form in particular, though she distinctly remembered telling them to focus on the Ancient Runes Study in her lap. Eventually, she admitted defeat, and laying back in her mini-shorts and vest, she moved from the shade of her tree into the searing heat and, under the pretence of sunbathing, watched the match from behind her sunglasses.

She couldn't help but chuckle as Ron, flying close-by to her, attempted a barrel roll and promptly dropped the Quaffle. But her mirth was soon converted into a shriek as, moments later, obviously embarrassed, he wildly threw the ball, accidentally sending it hurtling through the air towards her. She was so shocked that she had little time to do anything but cover her head wildly with her arms and wait for the inevitable crash, but it never came, and she peered through her fingers to find the very man she had been watching hovering inches away from her. "'Mione," Bill sounded worried, "are you alright?"  
Her mouth hung open in a most irritating way as her eyes moved from the toned body a breath away from her face, to the muscled arms, which held the ball securely in one hand, whilst the other stretched out to gently brush a strand of hair from her face. Realising that he must have saved her moments before impact, she attempted to close her mouth to thank him, but as her eyes drifted once more to his body, then up to his concerned expression, speech failed her. "I, bleh, um, uh..." She garbled out, causing Bill to jump lightly down from his broom and kneel besides her. The closer contact between his perfect figure, covered in a light sheen of sweat, and his god-like features did nothing to help Hermione's concentration, and she found herself swaying slightly, dizzied by her desire.

"I think she may be in shock, we need to get her inside." She smiled slightly; he was trying to look after her. But as he picked her up in his strong arms and carried her inside, all she could think about was how, if she moved forwards even slightly, she would be able to kiss the slightly stubbly jaw above her. Perhaps, she thought briefly, it was a good thing her head was still spinning too much for her to consider movement. The journey inside lasted far too short a time for Hermione's liking, and before long she was drinking a Calming Draught and idly giggling as Molly yelled at her youngest son. Bill seemed to take her amusement as encouragement and, smiling, stood up from where he had been kneeling on the floor nearby, exciting the room in three long strides. His absence upset her, and she wondered to herself how ridiculous she must have seemed to him, nearly feinting over an accident that he had prevented, then speaking in a bizarre bumbling for a few minutes after. She had never considered herself to be the damsel-in-distress figure, but she had certainly done a damned good impression of it today.

Her gloomy musings were interrupted and she found herself once again blushing and feeling pathetic as Bill re-entered holding two bottles of butterbeer and grinning at her. "Thought this might help." He explained, popping off the caps and handing one to her.  
"Thanks." She murmured. "And sorry about before. Oh, and thanks for before too." She replied in quick succession, cursing her scarlet face.  
"Don't worry about it 'Mione, I'm just glad you're okay." He gave a small, wicked smile. "We may have forgotten to tell Mum that it was a complete accident; I think she's still yelling at him outside."  
"Bill!" She admonished, before bursting out into new peals of laughter, imagining Ron's face as he one again faced his mother's fury.  
"Serves him right," Bill continued darkly, his smile immediately dropping, "you could've been seriously hurt."  
He seemed irritated again, and she rested a reassuring hand on his arm. "It was only an accident. Besides, I'm fine, thanks to you."  
He placed his hand on top of hers, turning their palms slightly until her small, soft hand nestled inside his large, rough one gently, and his voice and gaze were sincere as he quietly replied, "Anytime, Hermione." The coarse, calloused pad of his thumb rubbed lightly over the back of her delicate skin as his eyes continued to bore into hers, intense blue into deep brown. In the quickest of moments, the atmosphere surrounding the two changed, becoming heated and wild, and Hermione was almost certain that he was going to kiss her. In fact, as they leaned slowly together, never breaking their eye-contact, the tips of his finger still brushing on the back of her hand, she felt her lips parting slightly, her breathing hitching, until-

"'Mione! 'Mione are you ok?!" Ron burst violently into the room, so concerned with his friend's health that he failed to notice the pair jumping quickly apart, or the flush quickly spreading to her hairline. "I swear I never meant to hit you, it was a total accident!" He continued, not noticing his eldest brother silently slipping from the room as the rest of the family entered.  
"It's fine Ron, no harm done." Hermione smiled, reassuring him as he ran his hands over her head and shoulders, as if through them he could heal her non-existent wounds. Watching Bill's long red hair flick around the corner, she batted his arms away with some irritation, frowning and insisting that she was all right. "Honestly, Ronald," she started, her usual bossy tone returning, "I was just surprised; Bill caught the Quaffle before it could even touch me." She saw his shoulders slump in relief as he stepped away from her, asking where his brother was, so he could thank him. Hermione merely mumbled in reply, and deftly changed the subject to the argument that Charlie and George were having regarding the final score: Charlie claimed that Ron's mistake shouldn't change the score whilst George insisted that such a foul would be worth at least three penalties. Soon Ron, Harry, Ginny, Angelina and Audrey (who was determined to convert Percy to Quidditch, much to his disapproval) were all yelling at one another, and paying the silent, distracted Hermione little mind.

They wheedled away the afternoon in the lounge talking about the match; from the apparently amazing Wronski Feint (she still knew it as a Wonky Faint) Harry had performed, to a surprising performance from George, exuberantly imitating Ron's face as he saw the ball flying towards Hermione. Since Fred's death, it was so rare for him to act in such a carefree manner that it took them all a few moments to overcome the shock, but after a few tense seconds in which George stood, blushing and embarrassed, Fred's portrait broke into raucous laughter. It seemed to release a dam, and before long the whole company were clutching their sides in laughter, even the somewhat pink-eared Ron, who still seemed humiliated by his earlier mistake.

Although she enjoyed the afternoon, the absence of Bill seemed to be a constant weight on her mind, and she had to wonder why he hadn't returned to the group, which swiftly led her to wonder if it was her fault he hadn't. She attempted to discreetly ask Mrs Weasley where he had gone, but she merely brushed off her question and once again asked for assurance that she had forgiven Ron. Hermione was slightly disconcerted with Molly's obsession with trying to push for a relationship between the two; she knew about the kiss during the final battle, but also knew that Hermione had spoken to Ron about how she felt it had been an adrenaline-filled, rushed mistake. They had agreed that friendship was much more suited to them, although Molly didn't seem to agree with this idea and especially since her return from Australia, as often as she found herself sat next to or opposite Bill, she found herself sat very close to Ron. She merely hoped that he, too, understood that it was the right choice for them to remain brother-and-sister-esque, and that he found his perfect woman, married her and had lots of red-headed children, before his mother drove Hermione mad. So after banishing Mrs Weasley's worry that she harboured any ill-feeling towards her youngest, set out to find her eldest alone.

She searched the rebuilt yet still ram-shackled Burrow for him, but returned unsuccessful, and assumed he had returned to his now lonely cottage. So it was with great surprise that he seemed to appear, as if by magic (she laughed inwardly) to join the other Weasleys in bidding her farewell. Night had fallen, earlier than usual due to the sudden arrival of some intimidating looking storm clouds, when Hermione stood in the kitchen, saying her good-byes and repeatedly refusing offers of left-overs from Molly. She accepted the usual kisses on her cheek from Harry, Ginny, Molly and George, the others had left earlier on, and was overwhelmed in an unusually huge hug from Ron, who kissed both her cheeks in, what she assumed to be, yet another sign of his guilt from earlier. But she had no eyes for his out of character display of affection, or Mrs Weasley's barely concealed grin, as Bill walked over to her, a fierce look in his eyes. He's going to kiss me, she thought again, but at the last moment he stopped, and in an unusual display of old-fashioned courtesy, raised her hand gently to his lips, brushing them delicately over the knuckles he had rubbed earlier. His eyes seemed to burn like the blue flames she was so famous for as he stared at her, and she was infinitely grateful for the darkness that hid her crimson flush and heaving chest. Without another word, she stepped back and walked on shaky legs to the apparation point, and not looking behind her, vanished with a pop.


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N Huge thank yous to everyone who's reviewed, favourited or followed this fic, you're all awesome!**

 **Disclaimer: Still don't own anything, all hail JKR.**

 **Chapter 3**

Between claiming to help her parents rejoin British life, and her intense workload with the Ministry, she missed a few of the following Sunday meals, telling Molly that she wanted to spend the time with her parents, and her parents that she spent it at the Burrow. In truth, she, in the usual Hermione Granger style, had her work done much earlier than her deadlines, whether they be a week or a month. She simply couldn't stand the references to Bill. Whether it was seeing him in the flesh after their last encounter, hearing Molly's incessant mutterings about his relationship with Phlegm and Victoire when he was absent, or her father's jibes and mother's inquiries regarding him, she found any mention of a certain William unbearable. The intense look he gave her as he kissed the back of her hand, the way his grin could light her up from the inside out, and even the saddened way his eyes would droop whenever his daughter was mentioned: these all made her fall more and more for him, and increased her guilt at craving a married man, albeit an unhappily married one. But, as she constantly reminded herself, whether he was happy with his wife or not, he loved Victoire, and helping him to get her back was much more important than her own urges to rip his clothes off and kiss him senseless.

It didn't stop her frequently thinking about him, though, and with each memory of his toned body and wicked smirk, her guilt grew and grew, until she couldn't stand to keep her silence any longer. She had moved from her flat in London a few weeks earlier, claiming that she had returned to live with her parents - which conveniently was not attached to the Floo Network, and surrounded with Anti-Apparition Wards (for the sake of safety, of course) - when in actuality she simply desired some freedom from the almost daily visits that Molly graced her with, abundant with praise for Ron. The only people who knew how to reach the woodland cabin she had inherited, but forgotten about, from a deceased Aunt a few years earlier, were Harry, George and her mother. She had known that Harry would understand her desire for privacy, and besides, he often suffered from nightmares that not even Ginny could help him with, and they had developed somewhat of a habit of drowning their sorrows in mint-choc-chip ice-cream, sometimes laced with firewhiskey. At first she had been uneasy with hiding her home from Ginny, but the bond she and Harry shared, born from loss and laughter, meant even more to her than the friendship of the red-haired girl, though she had resolved to invite her over soon. But she couldn't speak to Harry, she knew, as he was sure to feel torn between Mrs Weasley's (and she fearfully suspected Ron's) wishes and her own, and she couldn't bring herself to upset him like that. Besides, he had already suffered so much, and she wanted nothing less than to give him the perfect, peaceful life he had never experienced, but absolutely deserved.

As for George, it hadn't even been her intention for him to find where she had relocated to, but after sealing her last box from her flat in Muggle London, she had noticed a ginger figure sprawled in the gutter, passed out from the empty bottle of Sambuca in his hand. Whilst gagging at the aniseed smell emanating from the spirit, she had tilted his head to the side and identified him as George, the man she had previously thought was getting better. Evidently she had been wrong about his healing. As she attempted to lift him, leaning the majority of his weight on her shoulders, staggering and cursing his stocky beater's build, he had half-woken, and slurred that he not be taken to the flat he shared with Angelina, or to his mother's house. So, after a lot of nudging, scolding, and at one point dragging his limp form into an empty alleyway, she apparated them to her new cottage, tucking him into her bed and, after placing various potions that would help his hangover on her bedside table, retreated to sleep on her sofa. The next morning, she had awoken to a most unusual sight; a Weasley man cooking! George, guilt ridden at being found in such an embarrassing state, had raided her cupboards and fridge and attempted to cook a full English breakfast, though from the smell he had burnt the majority of it, so Hermione ended up making them omelettes. The gesture was so sweet, however, and she was so touched by the idea that she insisted that if George ever needed to get away again, he was to come to her house, and that her silence would, of course, be guaranteed. And so, added to the ice-cream laced with alcohol nights she shared with Harry, she had nights comforting a highly inebriated and devastated George, who often fell asleep with his head in her lap. Every morning after his break-downs he would attempt to cook breakfast, and she would reassure him that he would somehow be happy again, but she knew that he would return the following week, once again intoxicated and inconsolable. So, of course, she couldn't burden the man more.

The last person who knew her location was also an undesirable person to confess to regarding her feelings for Bill, as she knew that her mum would most likely repeat the 'sex talk' she had given once learning about Victor Krum, a talk she had no wish to revisit. But, as Hermione gnawed at her lip, looking between the two letters before her, one waiting in a patient owl's talons, the other adorned with a stamp, she wondered which of the two would be worse to contact. Finally, closing her eyes and sighing, she chose, still doubting whether she had done the right thing. Moments later, her fireplace roared into life and a figure stepped through the emerald flames, casually dusting soot off their top.

"Hermione!" He called cheerfully, as she gaped.  
"Harry!" She ran to embrace him, before pulling back and looking inquisitive. "I only sent the owl to your house a minute ago, how did you get it so quickly?"  
He frowned in confusion. "Owl? I just decided to stop by after work, see how you were. What was your owl about?"  
She blushed. "Well, actually, I was wondering if I could speak to Ginny, I sent my address in the letter." At his crest-fallen face, obviously upset that she didn't want his advice, she quickly added, "It's girl stuff, you know, boys and things."  
Predictably, he almost threw himself back into the fire, yelling back that he would send his girlfriend right over, and that he'd see Hermione soon.  
Barely concealing a grin, she grabbed two glasses from her cupboard and began preparing her and Ginny's choice of poison when drinking together; vodka martinis, pint sized.

Hermione was chuckling at the memory of the first 'girl's night out' she, Ginny and Luna had experienced when her fireplace once again burst into life. The youngest redhead stepped forwards and swiftly hugged her friend, slapped her arm for making her worry with her absence, and promptly downed half of her drink. Without so much as a hello, she demanded to know what Hermione had been laughing about, and half an hour later found the two friends rolling in hilarity in front of the fire. "Do you remember," Ginny gasped out, "when you -ordered that -muggle drink, and it started raining!"  
Hermione roared yet again, tears of mirth streaming from her eyes. "Purple Rain is a muggle cocktail!" She insisted. "I didn't know that it would -that it would- "she tried desperately to regain her breath, "I didn't know that it would actually start to rain!"  
"The bartenders face when you said it too, he must have thought you were insane!"

After a while they had calmed down somewhat, and returned to the kitchen to refill their beverages. As Hermione bustled around, grinning at Ginny's insistence that she hadn't put nearly enough vodka in their drinks, the latter sat on a counter, swinging her legs gaily. "So," she started, surprisingly without slurring, "how come you finally let me visit your new place? Which, by the way, is really nice." She gave the small cottage a critical look, nodding slightly before frowning. "Too many books, but that cute sofa makes up for it. Still, what made you get in touch?" Hermione indicated that they return to the lounge, and gave Ginny her drink as they sat on the 'cute' sofa. Heaving a sigh, she began to fiddle with a loose thread trailing from the rug covering the top of her seat, until her companion swatted her hand away and repeated her question.

"It's rather awkward, talking to you about this," She began cautiously, "but you're the only friend I thought I could speak to about this. I mean, you're my one of best friends, and I can't even imagine talking to Harry or-"  
"You're in love with one of my brothers." Ginny interrupted bluntly. "Bill, I'm guessing."  
Hermione spluttered in surprise, and before she could tell her mouth to behave, had blurted out, "I don't know that I'm in love with him!"  
Met with a smirk and an eyebrow raised in amusement, she felt herself redden, and promptly hid her face in her drink. "Relax 'Mione, I won't tell anyone. But I don't understand why you've been so secretive about the whole thing, Bill obviously likes you too."  
Hermione mumbled into her drink, but upon seeing Ginny's Molly-esque look of disapproval, raised her head and repeated, "He's got much more to worry about, with Fleur and Victoire, than my little crush. He probably still loves Fleur, they've only been apart a few months." To her utter surprise, and slight irritation, her friend promptly burst into loud screams of laughter, and as the redhead uncontrollably collapsed once again to the floor, her scowl grew. "I'm glad you find it amusing Gin." She stated coldly.  
"Sor- sorry 'Mione, but you're the only one that can cheer Bill up nowadays, in fact when he's around you he's happier than he's ever been with Phlegm. And calling what you feel for him a 'little crush'? I mean, you're far too smart to pretend to not know that you have feelings for each other."

Hermione, now feeling woozy from the alcohol, had only the briefest moments hesitation, before confessing the moment she had shared with Bill, the last time they'd seen each other. Ginny was the perfect audience, gasping and awing in all the right moments, and swore loudly when she heard of Ron's interruption. After the fifth time of being asked if she was okay with the discussion about her brother, Ginny led them through to the next room, and replenishing their drinks, assured through her drunken gaze, "Hey, he's an awesome guy, and you're one of my best friends. I know I'm not supposed to have 'favourites'," She rolled her eyes in sarcasm, "but Bill and I have always been really close, so I like to think I know him pretty well, and my honestly-not-favourite brother is an awesome match for you. Even though your face does tend to match my hair most of the time he's around." She added the last line as an afterthought, and giggled wildly as Hermione threatened to charm said hair blue whilst pushing her shoulder in irritation and embarrassment. When she had calmed somewhat, she gave a casual shrug. "Besides, like I said, you make him happy. You both deserve to be happy."  
Hermione sighed. "I wish your mum felt the same way, she's still trying to make me Mrs Ronald Weasley."  
Ginny held her hand in comfort as she tried to banish the discomfort from her eyes. "She just assumes what most of us used to; that you and Ron would end up together. But before long she'll catch up and see how you and Bill look at each other, see how you make each other light up, see how you're obviously in love."  
"I don't know that we're-"  
"You may not know you're in love yet, Hermione, but it's clear on your face, and on his. I know that, you being you, you'll analyse it and refuse to accept it for months, but I also know it's true. You love him, and he-"

A loud crackling of the fire followed by a slumped form on the carpet interrupted Ginny's speech, and both the young women's attention was immediately drawn to the unconscious figure on the rug. It mumbled wordlessly as it attempted to stir, and Hermione instantly fell to her feet, drawing her wand and lifting the drunken Weasley to her bed. Following the usual routine, leaving the potions and ensuring that he was in the recovery position, she was rather surprised to find that George's sister was still in her lounge, staring with confusion at the spot her brother had passed out on.

All alcohol-infused cloudiness from their minds gone, Ginny looked in horror at Hermione, as she quietly explained how he hadn't wanted to worry his family when his grief became too much to bear. She asked whether Angelina knew of his occasional breakdowns, and tears formed in her eyes as she was told that her brother didn't want to disappoint or upset anyone. Hermione's reassurance that she always attempted to help George when he had these episodes seemed to help her slightly, though she cried even harder as she realised the burden that her friend had felt obliged to take on.

"Look, everything that's happened here tonight, it has to stay a secret, okay?" Hermione asked nervously.  
"Of course. But if you need to talk to anyone about Bill or, you know," Cue awkward pause, "anyone else, you know where I am." She shifted awkwardly. "And let him know that if he ever wants a sibling who won't judge him or anything... Well, I'm happy to have a drink with him." She gave a determined nod, as if to convince herself that she would have the strength to help her brother, before pulling Hermione into a fierce hug. Moments later, she disappeared back to the house she shared with Harry, trying, and failing, to subtly wipe the tears from her eyes.

Hermione, upset but grateful that she could once again count on her friend, walked wearily upstairs to check on George. Stroking some of his hair away from his mouth in an almost maternal way, she inadvertently woke him up, and she smiled slightly as his eyes met hers. "Mhmm... Ginny... Mmmhere?" He mumbled quietly, face stuffed into her pillow.  
"Yes, George, Ginny was here."  
His eyes opened wider, and tears spilt over his lids. "Didn't want worry." He said disjointedly.  
She started to soothingly run her hands over his scalp. "It's okay, she just wanted you to know that she loves you, and she's here for you."  
"She good sis'. Love too." He groaned out, before, with some effort, raising his head to meet her eyes. "You good. Nice. Look after me." She placed a kiss on his temple and led his head back to the pillow, before wishing him goodnight, barely hearing his returning, "Night, love 'Mione."

The next morning, as always, she couldn't read whether George remembered what he said the previous night, but he was now quite proficient at making pancakes, so they enjoyed their usual post-drunk breakfast. Just as he stepped into the fireplace, however, he quietly asked what state his sister had seen him in last night. Reassuring him that she didn't judge him at all, and that moments earlier both Ginny and herself had been drunk too, she gave him a hard hug and kiss on the cheek, before returning to bed to get a few hours of well-deserved comfortable sleep.


	5. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Still don't own anything (*cries*).**

 **Chapter 4**

It was only three days after Ginny's visit and George's latest drunken escapade that she saw the very man she had been attempting to avoid. The Monday following a weekend during which she had been determined to relax, she strolled into work, early as always, to suddenly freeze at the door to her office. Feeling somewhat as if she had been hit in the stomach with a bludger, she gaped at the grinning Weasley son sat in her small office chair.

"Nice place you've got." He commented genially, indicating the comfortable and spacious room that had recently been made hers. "Guess that work for S.P.E.W is really paying off, some nice perks you have here."  
"It's not spew it's S.P-" She started to instinctively snap, freezing when she realised what he had said. Irritated by her mistake, she continued coldly. "I don't do it for the perks."  
"I didn't mean-"  
"And obviously my 'perks' don't involve privacy in my own office! What are you doing here?"  
His eyebrows raised at her unexpected outburst. "I arrived before everyone else, I wanted to speak to you."  
"Oh?"  
"You haven't been to the last five Sundays at the Burrow."  
"And your mother sent you to check up on me?" She cocked an eyebrow at him.  
His face turned into a scowl as he muttered, "Actually I had a day off and just wanted to make sure you were all right. But you're obviously busy, I'll leave you be."  
He unfolded his long frame from her chair and strode past her, looking upset and causing Hermione to run a hand over her face and sigh. "Bill, wait. Look, I'm sorry, I'm always grouchy before my morning coffee. I was just about to go grab one from the Canteen, would you like to come?" She gave him a tentative smile, and was rewarded with the shadow of a grin flitting across his face. With a flourished bow, he wrapped her hand into the crook of his elbow and the two strolled, laughing and arm in arm, receiving very odd looks from those suffering from, as Hermione's mum used to call it, Monday-Morning-itis.

She mentioned this to Bill as they sat drinking their coffee, both strong with no sugar, and they spent many minutes arguing the pros and cons regarding introducing muggle medicine to wizarding ailments. This followed to Hermione confessing that she had seriously considered becoming a Healer, but couldn't bear the idea of seeing more pain and devastation, even if she was the one helping to heal it. Bill then also told her that he, like the other Weasley children (though as the eldest, predictably worse), had been greatly pressured to work in the Ministry, but couldn't stand the idea of sitting behind a desk for the rest of his life. He admitted to the irony of this, as that was what he now did every day, but merely shrugged it off and said he had no regrets in coming back to the London branch of Gringotts. An awkward pause followed, when both were thinking of the reasons for his return; the War and then his family, but the tense and upsetting subjects went unspoken of.

Once again, she found herself falling into the casual comfort that Bill's presence provided, and she vaguely wondered why she had been avoiding him for so long, realising how stupid she had been. She may have feelings for him, true, but that didn't mean she couldn't enjoy his company, and though she was determined to not 'rock the boat' when everything was so confusing with his wife and daughter, that didn't mean she couldn't inwardly swoon over his smile, and his laugh, and those intensely blue eyes... It was only when, after what she swore was twenty minutes, but was in actuality three hours, they parted ways. Hermione's assistant had come tearing into the Canteen, panting and red from exertion, and almost crying in relief when he spotted his boss, yelling that she was an hour late for the monthly inter-departmental meeting, held with the Minister of Magic himself. She was supposed to give a large presentation condemning the increasing restrictions on centaur territory, and shrieking loudly, she had flown from the room without so much as a goodbye.

As she slowed her pace, nearing the door to the meeting room, nerves started to creep up on her, the usual determination to be the very best and help the creatures she cared for making her eyes widen and her breathing stutter. She felt a warm hand clasp around her numb one, and turned in surprise to see that Bill had followed her, and now leaned down to softly whisper, "You'll be great, you always are. Knock 'em dead 'Mione." She hadn't even remembered mentioning the presentation to him, but his words warmed her and made a small, shy smile climb its way up her face. It only grew as she felt his soft, slightly dry lips brush gently across her cheek, and as he pulled back he gave her a wink and encouraging grin. Straightening her back and nodding at him with new-found confidence, she strode through the door with an intense glint in her eye.

*

She emerged no fewer than eight hours later, rubbing her eyes wearily but sporting a look of cheerful success. It had been long, tedious and she was thoroughly exhausted, but the hour and a half that her detailed presentation had taken up had gone swimmingly. Of course, there would always be the Lucius Malfoy's that would think first with their bank vaults, second with their manors, and third with their images, leaving the 'right thing' to come somewhere between vomit-flavoured Bertie Botts and Hippogriff droppings. But she, with her agile-thinking mind and quick tongue, was easily able to counter their feeble arguments. The Dolores Umbridge's of the world were slightly more difficult to deal with, with their blind hatred and their ignorant single-mindedness, but under Minister Shacklebolt's regime, these types were few and far between.

Still feeling satisfied with her performance, she shook hands with the various other members of the meeting as they all went their separate ways, grinning slightly at Kingsley, and almost bouncing down the corridor to the lifts. Smiling cheerfully as she pressed the button for level four, with the absolute intention of grabbing her jacket, heading home and curling up with a glass of wine and a muggle novel, she failed to notice the napping figure outside her office.

"Miss Granger? Hermione?" Her assistant and second-in-command sounded confused as she skipped happily through her door, only to turn around, skip back to him and pull him into a gleeful hug.  
"We got it Anthony!" She exclaimed. "The Minister has ordered an immediate meeting with the British centaurs, and has promised at least a 65% increase in their land!" He whooped loudly and, in an act that was unusually uninhibited, the pair jumped up and down on the spot in excitement.  
"We were only aiming for 30% to begin with!" He yelled, obviously surprised.  
"I know, but once I put that arse Belby in his place, they agreed that immediate action should be taken. Of course," she smiled wryly, "it may have helped that I reminded them what happened to 'Professor' Umbridge." He burst into laughter, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes, and in that moment she had never been more grateful for his appointment to her office.

Anthony Goldstein, a Ravenclaw from her year at school and fellow member of Dumbledore's Army, had worked hard to find his place as her head assistant, rising through the ranks almost as quickly as her. Due to Hermione being the youngest ever Head of the Office for House-Elf Relocation and Care (she insisted on adding the last part), and an active member of all areas of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, it had been advised that she hire a more experienced second hand. But after interviewing the various candidates, half of which only seemed to want the job to work with the famous Miss Granger, she had found Anthony to be the most capable, passionate and dedicated applicant. She certainly preferred him to Ms Tilston, the eighty year old previous assistant who seemed to have studied at the Umbridge School of Magical Creature 'Care', and was the absolute opposite of her fellow ex-student's caring, considerate and sympathetic nature towards those labelled 'beast' and 'being'. It was times like this when he showed his true worth, though, when he could enjoy her success and share in her merriment without any jealousy or bitterness. In fact, she truly expected that soon, as she was considering leaving this department to move to Magical Law Enforcement, he would take over her post. He would certainly have her recommendation.

A quiet cough that Hermione failed to hear interrupted their celebrations, and Anthony jumped back as if electrocuted, before looking in shock over her shoulder. "Iforgottotellyouthatyouhadavisitor."  
"What?" She asked, merely hearing some random bumbling.  
"He'sbeenhereallafternoonsincethemeeting."  
"Um..." She was now thoroughly confused, but Anthony wasn't done.  
"ButIdidn'twanttolethiminyourofficewithoutyourpermission. SoIsaidIguessedhecouldstayherebutthenhefellasleepandIdidn'tknowwhattodosoIlefthimthere."  
Hermione, entirely perplexed and sure that he had been given a Babbling Beverage, promptly screamed and drew her wand as she felt a hand from behind on her shoulder. Spinning around, a few neatly chosen hexes and jinxes on the tip of her tongue and her wand pointed squarely into the face of her assumed attacker, she instinctively smashed her elbow into the stranger's face when they pushed her wand aside.

"What the-" Came a startled and pained cry, "'Mione!" Recognising the voice and gasping as she saw Bill fall to the floor, clutching his nose, she immediately started a stream of apologies, sounding just as distressed as Anthony had moments ago. "I think what he was trying to tell you," said her victim, cutting across her in a thick voice, "was that you had a visitor." He attempted a humorous smile, but winced achingly immediately.  
"Oh Bill, I'm so sorry!" She moaned in distress, unconsciously stroking his cheek as she knelt beside him. "I think I broke your nose! We should get you to St. Mungo's."  
He caught the hand that caressed his face in his own, and his eyes twinkled at her. "You know the spell to fix it. I trust you." She shook her head and made to get up, but he dragged her down again. "You are the most talented witch of the age, aren't you?" He teased.  
"I'm also the person who broke your nose in the first place."  
"It was an accident. Now, please, fix my nose because talking so much is hurting me," she opened her mouth to suggest the hospital again, but, "and don't suggest St. Mungo's again because I swear I will talk the whole way there. I trust you more than some stranger."  
Even as he finished speaking she could see his eyes watering in pain and so, taking a shuddering breath, she once again pointed her wand at his face, and whispered, "Episkey."

She heard a loud crack, and he groaned again, making her fall back in terror. However, moments later, after a bang from the door that signified Anthony leaving, Bill experimentally wriggled his nose, sat up and smiled at her. "Thanks for- Hey, what's wrong?!"  
The adrenaline running through her veins, the fear and readiness to curse someone; in that one moment she was back at the Final Battle, seeing a different red-head lying on the floor, face covered in blood. That loud noises, the pale face before her, even his previous attempt at humour, and she was facing Fred. Almost eye-to-eye, Harry and Ron's weight on top of her, Percy's distraught face echoing the disbelief in her heart. Then spiders, and crying, and dragging Ron and Harry away.  
"You were back there weren't you, the Final Battle?" Bill asked quietly, as he sat against the leg of Anthony's desk, drawing her back into his chest and holding her tightly.

"I'm sorry." She choked out, and as she felt him shaking his head, grazing the top of her hair, she turned to face him. "No, not just for before." She couldn't see for the tears streaming from her eyes. "I was the one that saved people. I was the one who looked after them. And I was the one that- that- I was the one that couldn't save Fred!" She collapsed, a weeping mess on his chest, all previous joy forgotten. "I don't want to lose you Bill." She mumbled, "I see it almost every night, the people we lost, the people I should have been able to save!"  
"'Mione," she realised he was now crying too, "I feel guilty too, I wish I could've saved so many people, especially my little brother, but we can't blame ourselves-"  
"You don't understand!" She cried out suddenly, gazing earnestly into his eyes. "You said it yourself; I'm the 'greatest witch of my age'. I should have been able to do something! I was just so concentrated on helping Harry, so desperate to win the War, so desperate..."  
His hand wrapped around the back of her neck, pulling her forward until their foreheads touched. "Open your eyes." He said softly, and she found overwhelming emotion in his as they gazed at one another, barely inches away from each other. "You can't blame yourself for the people that died. There's a reason you're called a hero- don't shake your head- and that reason is that you _are_ one. If you hadn't have been there to keep Harry on track, to make sure that you were strong so he could be, we would never have won. So many more lives would have been lost if you hadn't shown the bravery you did in that battle. You're a Gryffindor, but you are so much more; you're the brains behind the rashness, the calm behind the impulse, the cunning behind the boldness, and without you, Voldemort would be in power and we would both be dead."  
She choked on a sob. "Don't even talk about you being dead."

With the hand that wasn't firmly holding her head close to his, he began to rub his fingers up and down her arm. "It's true though. So many good people wouldn't be here, and even those that would survive would live in a horrible world. A world without happiness," His hand moved to her shoulder, "friendship," he gently caressed her neck, "or even love." Her eyes met his as he brushed the back of his fingers over her cheek. It was in this moment that she realised that the hours spent casually speaking with Bill the years after the war, or spending all her energy attempting to cheer him up, or even avoiding him for what she believed to be his own good: these were all signs that Ginny was right. And from the look in his eyes, Hermione almost hoped that Gin was right about Bill too.  
"That was really cheesy." She said with a small smirk.  
"I've missed you." He replied softly, as they leant towards one another.

So it was then, as their faces were both blotched with tears and worn with grief, that Hermione Granger knew she was in love with Bill. And there, not in hormone-fuelled heat, but in sweet, grieving affection, William Weasley finally kissed his beloved.


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N So I don't usually write this kind of fluffy nonsense, but hey-ho. Enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I promise I'll tell you as soon as I become JKR, and you're all invited to my celebration party.**

 **Chapter 5**

The soft brush of lips, though passionate, lasted only a moment. As Hermione drew back and wiped away some of the tears running from his eyes, he leant forward and kissed hers away sweetly. They smiled at one another, before laughing awkwardly. Hermione untangled herself from her place on his lap, and offered him a hand to help him to his feet, ignoring his gaze determinately. As he stood up, Hermione tried to ignore how he towered over her, but couldn't help biting her lip in a mixture of nerves and excitement.

It seemed that Bill was experiencing similar uncertainties, as it was with a wavering voice that he asked if she would like to have dinner with him, to which she nodded, not trusting her voice, and they excited the Ministry in silence. Turning instinctively to the entrance at the Leaky Cauldron, she was surprised when he took her hand and pulled her down a small Muggle street, which was home to a tiny, intimate restaurant. When she gave him a confused look, he gave a brief smile and explained that this would be less conspicuous than Diagon Alley, and she seemed to have been avoiding attention recently.

Unable to help herself, ignoring all fears she had before, she dragged him into a side alley, so touched by his gesture that she loved him all the more. She pressed her lips almost urgently against his, and was relieved to find that he met her with equal heat, their tongues darting out and wrestling passionately. She had had a few experiences of intense make out sessions with Victor ('snogging' people her age called it; she had always found the word rather vile), but nothing could compare to the experienced and talented skills of Bill. She moaned involuntarily, which caused him to lightly bite her lower lip, causing a gasp that he swallowed with his mouth, and after a few minutes of their mouths' fiery meeting, he ran his teeth down her jaw, where he sucked and blew on her sensitive skin. He continued his ministrations to her neck, biting lightly then kissing the same area, while his hands, previously holding her shoulders, slipped down to squeeze her waist, brushing the side of her breasts. Although she was enjoying his treatment to no end, she couldn't help but tense at his new touch.

He immediately pulled back, hands resting lightly on the wall either side of her head, and gave her a concerned look that made her heart squeeze. "Let's go to dinner, shall we?" He asked uncertainly, already turning away.  
She grabbed his arm, pulling him back to where her scarlet cheeks were hidden by the darkness. "Look, Bill, I think it's quite obvious I lo- lik- have more than friendly feelings for you, way more than friendly. But you should know that, um..." She suddenly realised that an alley in London was perhaps one of the worst places to have this conversation, not that she could imagine a place that it would be entirely comfortable. "Grab my arm." She demanded.  
Bill, obviously nonplussed said, "But I was going to take you to dinner."  
She shook her head, held out her arm and gave him her best 'don't mess with me right now' expression.

She took them to just outside her cottage, so she had the distance between her wards and her home to sort herself out. Bill followed silently, though she had to briefly hold his hand as he stepped over her magical barriers, and through all of her nervousness about what he thought about her now, let alone when they reached her home, she was amazed she could still marvel at the feeling of her fingers in his. They didn't speak, other than the occasional, "Watch out for that branch," or "Careful, don't trip here," from Hermione, and a quarter of an hour later they were there, and Bill couldn't help but smile at the small house she had. He once again had to hold her hand as they passed through another set of wards, but when he questioned her seemingly extreme security, she merely gave a sad smile and showed the Mudblood scar that remained on her forearm.

When they arrived at her front door, she released her last wards and waved him in, expecting him to go straight through, so was surprised once more by him, as he remained in her small hallway and pulled her into a hug. "I'm so sorry." He muttered over and over.  
Her blood ran cold. "You regret it then." She whispered into his shoulder.  
He pulled back and stared at her. "Regret? _Me_? I thought _you_ regretted the kiss?!"  
"No! I mean, I just, you know, well, I haven't exactly, um..."  
He tilted his head to one side in confusion, before his eyes widened understandingly. "'Mione, are you a virgin?" Her crimson cheeks were answer enough, and he quickly stepped forward to kiss her gently. "Don't be embarrassed. It's best to-"  
"But I know you have, and you must be comparing me to all the other women you've been with, and I'm terrified but turned on and, did I mention, bloody terrified, and I-"  
He cut off her rambling with a deep kiss, which he only broke when they needed air. "I'll never compare you to anyone else," he promised, "and even if I did, you would beat them hands down. I'll never pressure you 'Mione, simply being around you is more than enough for me. Maybe if I can steal a little kiss every once in a while, well, bonus." He gave his cheeky wink. "Now, I believe I owed you dinner." Kissing her gently on her forehead, he found his way to her kitchen, and started rooting through her cupboards, her following with a bemused but thrilled smile.

She poured herself the glass of red she had planned to have, with one for him too, grinning as Bill gave a mock-inspection of the wine, and she, giggling, told him that it was Muggle wine, and could not be examined in the same way as wizards. He looked on blankly as she spoke about units and percentages of alcohol, instead deciding to try a sip and, obviously liking it, grinned. She thought she heard him mutter something about Muggles surprising him, before the hiss of searing beef filled her kitchen. "Who knew," she smiled as she hugged him from behind, inhaling the beautiful smells of the stir fry he had begun to prepare, "that the Weasley kids could cook so well?"  
He leant back and kissed her cheek. "Just don't ask me to do anything more than throw ingredients into a bowl."  
She grinned. "I'll teach you how to cook my mum's brownies someday, they're _immense_."  
Tossing the pan before him expertly, he wandlessly caused some chillies to chop themselves and fly into the vegetable and beef mixture. "Sounds like fun, though I have to warn you that things tend to get messy when I come in contact with chocolate."  
He winked at her over his shoulder, and she grinned, sighing contentedly into his back. In an unusually forward gesture, she murmured, "It's weird, you know, this feels so normal, so natural. It's like we've been doing this for years." Thinking back to the months spent in each others company before she left for Australia, she thoughtfully added, "I suppose it's because of all the time we've spent together, but it's still weird."  
He turned around and wrapped his arms around her casually, the stir fry magically still mixing. "I know, it's a good weird though."

She idly ran her fingers through a strand of his long hair, feigning nonchalance as she asked, "Are you sure you really don't mind that I haven't, you know, gone, er, all the way?"  
He frowned at her. "Hermione, you have to stop doubting yourself. I was just surprised earlier; you're beautiful, talented and brilliant, and the idea that no-one else has tried to win you over yet is frankly unbelievable. If anything, it should be you having an issue with me, looking like this." He gestured to his face and she pushed his hand away.  
"Bill, you're so handsome, you're perfect, and-" He interrupted her gentle stroking of his scars and continued.  
"Talking to you over the past few years, getting to know you, has made me happier than ever before. Especially in these last few months, you've been an invaluable friend, and not seeing you the for five weeks has killed me. I don't want to do anything but get to know you even more, until you're ready. Though like I said," he winked and dipped his head down to whisper in her ear, "I wouldn't say no to the occasional kiss." Nibbling at her ear teasingly, he worked his way down her jawline, making her head go foggy with bliss, before reaching her lips. Eyes closed in arousal, she didn't see his typical Weasley smirk as he placed a chaste kiss on her mouth, before returning to his cooking. Smiling innocently at her indignant look, he indicated to his hand, holding the handle to the still self-stirring pan, and grinning, claimed, "I said I'd cook for you."

She felt an incredibly unHermioneish growl rise in her throat, and promptly turned him to face her again, dragging his head down to crush their mouths together. She sighed as he bit her lower lip, allowing his wicked tongue entry, and before long was almost collapsing against his strong form, gasping uncontrollably. He lifted her up and sat her on a nearby counter, moving between her legs so they were face-to-face, and kissed her back hungrily, careful to keep one hand firmly on her waist whilst the other tangled through her bushy locks. She breathed out his name softly, causing his eyes to flash in a feral way as he growled, "Merlin, 'Mione, why didn't we do this sooner?"  
He had returned his ministrations to her neck, finding the sensitive spot behind her ear and nipping at in a way that left her breathless. "Guess we both just think too much." She managed to gasp out, giggling slightly as his chuckles tickled her heated skin.  
"Hermione Granger, admitting she thinks too much? I never thought I'd see the day." He teased, grinning. She raised a hand to swat him playfully, but he caught it and, stepping back from between her thighs to kiss the palm softly.  
She gave a small whimper of disappointment, already missing the feeling of his body against hers, but when she noticed him awkwardly rearranging his jeans, they both flushed scarlet. "Oh, um, sorry." She muttered, pointedly avoiding looking at the bulge straining at the denim.  
He smiled reassuringly and pressed his lips gently to her cheek. "Don't be. And please stop apologising around me." He returned to his cooking and she hopped down from her perch, sipping her wine contentedly.

They sat down a few minutes later and she was pleasantly pleased to find that his cooking tasted even better than it smelled. Once finished, she refilled their glasses and they went through to the lounge to sit on the sofa, the pair of them curled around each other, basking in the warmth from the fire. "This place is great, by the way." He commented, smiling at the oak and navy designed area before, standing, he moved to examine the bookcases that lined three of the four walls of the room, cheerfully looking at the extensive range their shelves held. She watched his movements, her face lighting up as she knew that he, unlike many others, wouldn't judge or berate her for her literary collection, or comment on her 'cute' sofa, she thought with a chuckle. He reached the area closest to her favourite armchair, and she explained that the battered tomes were some of her most treasured possessions. He took exceptional interest in these, grinning at seeing her worn copy of _Hogwarts, A History_ , and asking her why some brothers bragged about being depressed. They wheedled away the evening with Hermione reading from the Brothers Grimm fairy tales book she adored, agreeing that they were incredibly dark for children's stories. Then, shrugging, they mentioned the tale of the Warlock's Hairy Heart from Beedle the Bard, and decided that children's writers were all in dire need of intense therapy.

It was nearly midnight by the time they had exhausted tales of different fairy tales they had grown up with (he was particularly disturbed by the story of Little Red Riding Hood) but neither found that they were tired. They were entwined around one another, her gently stroking the scar that peeked out above his shirt and ran to his neck, as she told him more about her parents. As she mentioned their upset, but understanding, reaction to her countless holidays spent with her magical friends, he asked the question that had been playing on his mind for five weeks now.

"'Mione, why did you stop coming to the Burrow on Sundays?"  
She stopped her intimate caresses and refused to meet his eyes, even when he tilted her head to face his. "Well, er," she couldn't believe her embarrassment, "it was actually because of, erm, you." He visibly flinched, though whether out of shock or hurt, she couldn't tell, though whatever the cause she wanted to dispel it. "I mean, after that day with the Quidditch near-accident, I just didn't know how to act around you." Emboldened by the now half-empty second bottle of wine they had drunk, she continued. "I knew that I wanted you, but never imagined you would ever want me back. I mean, you're amazing, and I'm just the bookworm know-it-all. I still can't quite believe that I'm here with you now. You could have any witch you wanted, yet you listened to me crying, then came here and cooked dinner, and talked to me about bloody fairy tales all night! I mean you should be with a beautiful woman who isn't stubborn or bossy or a _freaking virgin_!"  
Her pitch had increased considerably but as she opened her mouth to continue her self-deprecating rant, he stole her words with a deep, passionate kiss. Pulling back after a few intense minutes, and breathing heavily, he pressed his cheek against hers. "Hermione Granger, you are one of the most opinionated, ridiculous people I have ever met, and you are wonderful. You are beautiful, and you don't feel the need to use stupid charms like most women do. You are stubborn, but it's just because you're so passionate in your views, and there's nothing more incredible than seeing the fire in your eyes when your speaking about what you believe. You are bossy, but Merlin knows that if you weren't my brother and Harry would've been killed long ago, and Voldemort would control the whole world. And for Godric's sake, please stop worrying so much about not having sex. Believe it or not, I can enjoy myself around you without shagging you senseless." He gave her a wry smile which she, biting back the grin that wanted to burst forth, returned with a smirk tinted with humour.  
"You know, I also stopped going because your mother was starting to drive me crazy."  
He grinned slightly at her humour. "Too late, you already are crazy. And I wouldn't have it any other way."


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N More awful fluffiness, sorry. But a huge thanks to everyone who's favourited, followed or reviewed, here's a day early post for you!**

 **Special love to half black prince (I'll be interested to see if you still feel sorry for Fleur by the end of this!), adh78 (I love this pairing too, I don't think there's enough of it out there, so I hope it plays out to your liking!) and cares 1970 (It'll be a while before we get there yet, but I'll try to keep you entertained in the meantime, and you have a great week too!) Hope I don't let you guys down!**

 **Wow, that was a lot of exclamation marks, but here's one more; enjoy everyone!  
**

 **Disclaimer: Believe it or not, I still own nothing.**

 **Chapter 6**

It was a mutual decision that they keep their relationship quiet from the family; they didn't need the grief from Molly about how they should be with Fleur and Ron. They pointedly didn't talk about the French whore, as Hermione called her, and instead spent the following weeks meeting up and enjoying their time together, though, regrettably, due to their jobs, this happened less frequently than either wanted. Things were naturally easy between them, and they found themselves settling almost instantly into a routine; they would meet up, when they could, after they had both finished work, and take it in turns to cook, then they would return to their spot in front of the fire and talk or read, her either resting against his chest, or him lying with his head in her lap. She loved running her fingers through his long hair, and from the satisfied sighs he often gave, she knew that he enjoyed it too. Crookshanks would often stare murderously from the corner as he stole that attention that, as all cats believe, should be entirely focussed on him, but after Bill bought him some Kneazle treats, he deigned to allow himself to be stroked, even cuddling up with them on occasion.

Soon it was their fifth Saturday together, and after waking up from where they had fallen asleep, spooning, on the sofa, they started making breakfast in perfect synch. Stretching their stiff muscles after enjoying their bacon and eggs, they sat on the swing outside, clutching their coffees. "So what do you want to do today?" Hermione asked as she felt his hand gently running through her wild locks.  
He gave a small shrug. "I don't mind really. I need to stop by Shell Cottage at some point to pick up some fresh clothes, but other than that I'm all yours." He gave a small wink and lowered his lips to hers, giving her a soft, but passionate, kiss.  
She hummed happily. "I like the sound of that."

She ended up joining him when he returned to his home that afternoon, unable to suppress a shudder as she held her arm, remembering her first visit here, and when he noticed this he wrapped an arm comfortingly around her shoulders, and stayed by her side as they walked to the small grave in the garden. 'HERE LIES DOBBY, A FREE ELF' stared back at them, and she let her tears run freely as she silently thanked the house-elf that had saved her life and inspired her greatest work. "I seem to be crying a heck of a lot around you, you know." She teased Bill weakly.  
"Crying is nothing to be ashamed of." He murmured, running one hand in circles across her back, and grasping hers tightly with the other.  
"I'm not ashamed." She replied softly. "It's one way of remembering who we've lost." He placed a gentle kiss on the top of her head, and they went silently inside.

She couldn't hold back her gasp when they walked through the front door; the previously friendly and welcoming home was cold and barren, almost empty. " _She_ took most of the things when she left." Bill explained, quiet but obviously angry. She went through to the kitchen as he ran upstairs to get some clothes, and the corner of her mouth rose slightly. The table and counters were littered with childish drawings; beach scenes, a house that was clearly meant to be the Burrow, and many paintings of dragons, unicorns and other magical creatures. More frequent than any other, however, were Victoire's constant artistic interpretations of a red-headed, grinning man with scars littering his face. She picked up the one nearest to her and gave a soundless chuckle at the yellow haired stick-girl resting on her stick-fathers shoulders.

She was so absorbed in the multiple drawings of Bill that she didn't hear the man himself enter, and jumped when his voice cut through the silence. "I wouldn't let her take them."  
"You must miss her so much." Hermione breathed, gazing at him as his eyes latched onto a drawing of a redhead and a blonde, holding hands with a smaller blonde.  
"I don't miss her," he started, tapping his finger on the taller blonde, "but Victoire..." He trailed off, absently running his fingertip over the hair of the small child, as if imagining the feeling of the strands through the parchment.  
"Bill..." She said sadly, "Are you sure you don't want to-"  
"We'd better go." He interrupted abruptly, turning on his heel and, in his haste, knocking the picture to the floor; Hermione silently picked it up and put it back on the surface, before following him out. As he had done earlier, she took his hand and rubbed his back gently, but the tension in his muscles didn't relax, and after a few minutes of breathing in the sea air, she apparated them back to her place.

"So," Bill said immediately, faking cheer and obviously desperate to distract from their visit, "why is it that when I first came here, we had to walk through the wood, but now we can apparate straight into your lounge?"  
She shrugged, mentally writing herself a note to talk to him about Victoire soon. "It's a part of the wards I set up; only I can apparate within my wards, but if someone's holding onto me they can too. I can also block my floo, only four people can come through it. In fact, I've been meaning to add you to the list."  
"What's with the crazy security?" He repeated his question from their first night, then frowned. "And if you could always apparate us straight here, why did you put us so far out on Monday?"  
She deftly ignored his first question, and laughed instead. "I needed some time to get my thoughts together, I had no idea what was going to happen."  
Perhaps he, like she had earlier, filed a reminder to question her on a subject she was obviously uncomfortable with, but for the moment let it slide. Smirking, he pulled her closer. "And are you satisfied with what happened?" He asked in a low growl that made her shiver with desire.  
"Hmm, maybe." She teased, feigning doubt. "I think I might need a reminder about the-"

He lunged forwards and bruised his lips against her desperately, making her stumble back in surprise until she was collapsed onto an armchair. He immediately followed her down, settling himself between her thighs and kissing her as if he was a drowning man. She felt a feral growl move it's way through his chest as he started to attack her neck, tongue and teeth teasing her exquisitely. They slid down to the rug, and from the way their bodies were placed flush to one another, she felt the growing bulge in his jeans rubbing slightly against her, making her moan in a bewildered but entirely excited way. His hands slid slowly beneath her shirt, rubbing his thumbs cautiously from her waist higher, until they gently brushed over the lace of her bra, ghosting over her nipples in a way that made her gasp in desire. He continued his teasing as she threw her head back, overwhelmed and confused with the heat running through her body, ignoring the voice in her head that was screaming ' _Too fast, you need to stop, TOO FAST!_ ' He sucked on her pulse point hard enough that she was sure she would have a mark tomorrow, and she heard a heady groan escape her lips, snapping her back to reality.

She pushed him away slightly, limbs still weak from his talented treatment, and tried desperately to control her breathing. "Bill, I-"  
He shook his head, and as he looked up at her his eyes were a wild amber, his expression more animal than human. "It's the full moon tomorrow." He ground out. "I couldn't help myself. I'm sorry."  
He still looked as though he was about to pounce on her and take her there in front of the fire (an idea she was mortified to find she wasn't entirely against), but for both their sakes, she moved over until she was leaning against the sofa, pulling him up until his back was against her front and started running her fingers through his hair relaxingly. "You don't have to apologise." She assured him, trying to keep the still-aroused panting from her voice. He bowed his head in shame, and when she dragged it back to face her, she saw that his eyes had returned to their sapphire colour. She stroked his cheek and kissed him gently. "I mean it, you've nothing to be sorry for."  
He gazed at her earnestly. "Fleur couldn't stand to be around me during the full moon. I know that I'm not myself, that I'm out of control." He frowned. "I don't blame her for not wanting to see me like this."  
She returned to stroking his hair soothingly, softly telling him, "There's nothing wrong with you Bill, and it's not your fault if you get a bit more, um, _intense_ closer to the full moon. Nobody worth your time will judge you, and I want you to trust me when I say that I'll never think worse of you for it. If anything, the fact that you were able to stop, even when instinct was telling you to carry on, makes me love you even more. Most people would just-"  
"What?" Bill turned to face her, perplexed.  
"I was just saying that it's amazing that you don't hide from what's happened. It takes a lot of courage and-"  
"No that's not what you said." He stubbornly interrupted. Seeing her lost expression, he continued, quoting her. "'Even when instinct was telling you to carry on..."  
"Makes me love you even-" Her words froze in her mouth as she realised what she had admitted. _And after less than six weeks of being together_ , she chastised herself.

Their eyes seemed joined together, his confused and hers concerned, barely even blinking. Then, all of a sudden, he leaned forwards and crashed their mouths together again, taking her by surprise with his passion. A few moments later, he pulled back and, to her even greater surprise, was smiling as if a light had been turned on behind his skin. "I love you." He whispered, kissing her neck. "I love you." He kissed the corner of her mouth. "I love you." His lips moved softly against hers, moulding against one another perfectly, yet still sweetly innocent.  
"I love you too." She smiled at him. "You don't think it's too soon for us to be saying it though?"  
He shook his head. "'Mione, we've known each other for ages, been good friends for six years, and for the last few months you've become my saviour. I've been falling in love with you more and more every day since you came back from Australia, and these weeks together has only made me realise how much I need you. So I don't care if we've only been together for just over a month; I love you and I'm not ashamed to admit it."  
She gave him a swift kiss, before chuckling. "I never thought I'd be the type of girl who would tell a guy she loved him after less than a month and a half."  
He clutched his heart in mock pain. "I'm just 'a guy' to you?"  
She replied with a serious voice, but humour twinkling in her eyes. "Well, you know, there's just so many guys I'm around; there's Anthony and Harry and-"

He cut her off with his mouth and they fell to the ground, laughing through their kissing, arms wrapping around one another. After a few moments he suddenly stiffened and pushed her away, leaving her hurt and confused, until she saw the flash of gold in his eyes.  
"I should go." He mumbled, tilting his hips so she didn't see the once again hard lump in his pants and standing quickly, then she accepted his hand to help her up and followed him as he walked swiftly to the door. Her eyes were understanding, but rather upset, as she said goodbye to him, having only a chaste kiss as a farewell. However he stopped after a few paces and, in a hopeful voice, said, "See you tomorrow at the Burrow, I hope?"  
She ran to him, ignoring the broken branches and rocks beneath her bare feet, and hugged him tightly. "You definitely will. I love you." After a more satisfying goodbye, involving wandering hands and battling tongues, she stepped back. He moved towards her, his eyes amber again, and she was initially concerned about his intentions, but all he did was kiss her forehead, murmur once more that he loved her, before disappearing into the darkness.

Hermione went back inside and ran herself a very hot, very bubbly, bath in her magically enlarged bathroom (one of the first things she had done to her new cottage was extend the room to fit a bath that was the size of a hot tub) and relaxing back into the water, she thought about the strange, yet brilliant, change her life had taken. Gasping at the slight sting of the cuts her feet had sustained made her remember other gasps from the evening, and she happily sank into the water, enjoying the heat on her over-sensitive breasts and neck. She let her mind wander and she briefly smiled as she considered the journey of her life until now. She was, she decided, almost like a character from a children's book, who has hardships and trials before finding their happily ever after. She merely hoped she didn't share the fate of many Brothers Grimm characters.

She entertained herself with considering what the author of her life would be called (she decided it would definitely be a woman, with a name like Elizabeth or Joanne) until the smell of her bath soaps lulled her into an almost comatose relaxed state. She briefly thought that the only way the bath could be better was if Bill was there with her, and sighing, imagined leaning back into his embrace once more. Only when her skin was becoming wrinkled and the bubbles were all gone, did she get out and sleepily make her way to bed.


	8. Chapter 7

**I'm going away for a week so won't be able to do my usual updates every three days, but to make up for it I'll give you three chapters today! Thanks, as ever, to everyone who has taken time to read, comment or add this to their updates.**

 **Disclaimer: Still not mine, but you lovely people make up for that!**

 **Chapter 7**

Hermione awoke to a thick wetness between her legs, and immediately hurried to the shower to remove the evidence of last nights dream of Bill. She was making herself a coffee, idly wondering how it would feel to run her hands over Bill's naked chest, when her floo jumped into action. Wandering through to her lounge, curious but grabbing her wand cautiously, she smiled as she saw Ginny's form.

"Oi," she greeted moodily, "put your bloody wand down and get me a drink."  
"Um, okay, what do you want; tea, coffee, juice?"  
"No. Firewhiskey."  
"Ginny, it's eight am."  
"Fine then, Vodka."  
"Uhh, Gin, I'm not sure that it's such a good-" She was cut off by a rather alarming explosion of tears as she was thrown backwards by a small, fiery red object clutching desperately to her waist. "Ginny, what the hell is wrong with you?!" She demanded. Through her friends crying she ascertained that Harry had been spending a lot of time away from home, lying about his whereabouts or refusing to tell her where he'd been.  
"He-he's obviously (sob) cheating on m-me (sob), I kne-knew (sob) he wanted some-someone better than me!"

Hermione, in an unusual act of violence, promptly slapped her cheek to snap her out of her uncontrolable distress. They both gaped at each other before Hermione started her swift string of apologies. "Look," she said after at least twenty sorrys, "I'm really sorry about that but I know Harry, and he's not a damn cheater, and he adores you more than anything. As for him wanting someone better; there is no-one better to him, and besides, he's been in love with you for over six years! Trust me, he loves you, and Harry would never cheat."  
"Where's he been then?"  
"Have you asked him?" Ginny shrugged, and Hermione felt herself sigh in exasperation. "Look, he loves you, and I'm sure that whatever he's been doing will make sense as soon as you ask him."  
"But why would he lie to me?!" She demanded. "He's just gone out, saying he was going to meet up with Ron for the day, but then Ron appeared asking if he was in!"  
"Gin, calm the heck down." She pushed a mug of coffee before her friend and dragged her arm away from the alcohol bottles on the counter, before sitting her down at the kitchen table and rubbing her shoulder calmingly. "Whatever he's up to, just ask him about it, there'll be a reasonable explanation. Besides, this is Harry we're talking about, he's-"

The flames in her lounge leapt up again, and she rolled her eyes, excusing herself for a moment and fixing her friend with a stern gaze when her hand drifted to the vodka. The Boy-Who-Lived himself stepped through the floo and embraced her warmly, green eyes shining as he excitedly bumbled that he had something important to tell her. "Uh, Harry, you should know that-"  
Ginny came flying through from the kitchen, babbling incoherently. "Ginny!" Harry yelled, surprised. "What are you doing here?"  
"Me?!" She screeched, her fiery temper and resemblance to Molly never as obvious as now. "What happened to, 'I just want to catch up with Ron, see you tonight love'. You've been lying to me!"  
Seeing the domestic argument waiting to happen, Hermione ushered them swiftly to the fireplace, the rowing couple (well, Ginny was rowing at least) paying her no heed whatsoever. She called the name of their house herself, waving pointlessly as they were engulfed in emerald flames, Ginny still yelling tearfully at her boyfriend and him looking suitably alarmed.

Shaking her head and sighing, she returned to her coffee and daydreams of her gorgeous redhead, unconsciously grinning at the thought that she would see him later on. She had just decided to go to Muggle London to do a little shopping when she heard her floo activate yet again. "Ginny..." She muttered mutinously, so was surprised to see brown hair rather than scarlet when she entered her lounge. "Mum?"  
Hello darling." Jean Granger replied, pulling her into a tight hug after regaining her balance; Hermione had taught her how to use floo travel a while ago, but she still found it very disconcerting. Though she was notably better than her father, who frequently found himself in various uncomfortable circumstances involving being stuck in a stranger's chimney, too embarrassed to call for help.  
"It's so great to see you! But what are you doing here?"  
Her mother shrugged, smiling. "I just wanted to see you, check how you were doing. Mrs Weasley sent us a letter (the woman really likes her stamps doesn't she?) saying that she hoped your father and I would join them for dinner today. Apparently she misses you, and though she understands that you want to spend time with us, she would like to see you again as soon as you were available." By now her eyebrows had disappeared towards her hairline and Hermione was flushing red, caught out in her lie.  
"I just wanted some space." She mumbled in embarrassment, hiding her face under the pretence of making her mum a mug of tea.  
"Sweetheart, your father and I will always give you space if you need it, just don't lie to us."  
"Sorry, mum. It wasn't really you and dad I was avoiding."  
Her mum gave her a knowing smile. "Ah, yes, Mrs Weasley does seem rather, um, overbearing at times, lovely woman though, of course. Or was it perhaps a certain son you've been avoiding?" Her brown eyes twinkled in a way almost reminiscent of Albus Dumbledore.  
"Mum, leave it."  
"Well Hermione I just think that-"  
"Mum, please. I'm not fifteen anymore."  
"I know, but just remember to be safe and-"  
"Mum!"  
"-don't let yourself be pressured-"

She was thankfully saved by the fire startling into life again, but she still groaned, yelling out, "Ginny, I swear to Merlin if that's you again-"  
"Why would it be Ginny?" Came the reply from an inquisitive George, as he stuck his head into the kitchen. "Oh, hello Mrs Granger. How are you?" He held out a hand to shake her mothers, and the pair began idly chatting, until Hermione coughed in a rudely obvious way.  
"Oh, sorry dear, I'd best be off now anyway." Her mum hugged her again.  
"Will I be seeing you at the Burrow later, Mrs Granger?" George asked politely.  
She gave Hermione an inquisitively raised eyebrow, and she replied with a barely perceptible nod. "Yes, George, I'm sure you will. Please tell your mother that it would be my pleasure to make dessert, it's the least I can do."  
Hermione's ears and mood instantly perked up. "Brownies?" Her mum chuckled and, kissing her forehead affectionately, stepped back into the fireplace.

She leant back in her chair and closed her eyes, exhausted despite the fact she was sure it wasn't even half nine yet. She was so wrapped up in the idea of contacting Bill and falling asleep on his torso, that she completely forgot her other guest, causing her to jump in shock when he spoke. "So, why would it have been Ginny?" George asked.  
Coming down from being startled, she sighed and shook her head. "Don't even ask." She peered at him through her eyelashes, thinking how odd it was to see the handsome ex-twin in her house completely sober; she couldn't recall him visiting her during the day before, and she found it oddly refreshing. "So, what's up George?" She asked, attempting nonchalance.  
He frowned at her. "I can't take it anymore 'Mione." She immediately became cautious, knowing how quickly he could go from charming to desolate. "She's doing my head in, you need to come round."  
She tilted her head to the side in utter confusion, she didn't think he and his girlfriend were having issues. "Angelina?"  
"No, my mother. Every day she's asking if we've heard from you; she keeps on randomly yelling at Ron, demanding to know what he's done wrong. You _have_ to come by today, or I swear she'll put out a missing persons report and set the Auror Department on you."  
Biting back a laugh, Hermione reassured him that she had been planning to attend today's meal anyway, and swiftly ushered him out, claiming that she had to go shopping.

After he had left, she decided that she would, in fact, return to her original plan of going to Muggle London, and had just picked up her bag and had one foot through the door, when the now all-too-familiar sound of flames rang through the house. "For Merlin's sake, does my house have a bloody sign saying 'Piccadilly frickin' Circus'?!" So busy with her raging and cursing, she didn't even look at who had arrived, merely stomped through to her lounge and snapped. "What the hell do you want this time?"  
"Um, hi?" A nervous voice answered.  
"Bill!" She called in stunned delight. Dropping her bag, she went to swiftly kiss him, melting against his body as his arms wrapped around her. "Mm, what a nice surprise." She hummed against his lips.  
He smirked. "Well it's lovely to see you too. As for what the hell I want, as you so eloquently put it, turns out the meeting I was supposed to have with the Japanese Diplomats has been moved back 'till Wednseday. I was just wondering what you were up to, if you had any plans or if you wanted to do something."

Smiling slightly and feeling relaxed for the first time since Ginny's arrival, she abandoned her previous plans and firmly told him that she was going back to bed. He looked nonplussed for a second before following her upstairs, asking her with confusion what was wrong with her, but she refused to answer until she was curled on her side, fully dressed, in her bed, and he was sat on the edge nearest to her, stroking her hair. He interrupted her only briefly to ask why George knew where she lived, but seemed to accept her statement that it wasn't her place to tell him. He chuckled loudly at her mum's attempt at the sex talk mark two, until her glare finally silenced him. Sometime through her story of her populous morning he had moved to lie down besides her, and they faced one another, her gently caressing the bare arm revealed by his t-shirt, and him still running his fingers through her wayward locks.

"So," he said once she had finished, "you're absolutely positive that Potter isn't cheating on my sister?"  
She laughed. "Out of everything, that's what you focus on? You're such a typical man." She went to swat his chest lightly, but he caught her hand and pulled her towards him until their bodies were flush together.  
"Would you love me if I wasn't?" He growled lowly. Instinctively, their mouths moved together, and he pulled her into a passionate embrace, his hands snaking once more beneath her vest, though staying firmly on her hips. She groaned loudly and, emboldened by the fire running through her veins and the heat she still felt from her dream last night, grabbed the hem of his grey t-shirt and pulled it over his head. He looked surprised at first, meeting her eyes inquisitively, but she silenced his unspoken questions with another hard kiss, and he was soon moaning slightly as she ran her small hands over the hard planes of his chest, making her gave a satisfied smirk against his lips. Moving down, she bit lightly on his neck making him hiss in desire, before running her tongue slowly along the scars that marked his torso. The noise he made when she tentatively ran her mouth over one of his hard nipples sounded almost painful, but the look of bliss on his face said otherwise.

Before long, he had flipped them over, so that he hovered above her, his obvious erection pressing against her thigh, him ravishing her mouth and neck. She felt one hand tentatively stroke the small patch between her knee and the bottom of her skirt, his fingers ghosting lightly over the soft skin there. At her returning gasp of pleasure, he moved his hand slightly higher, to her mid-thigh, though never going high enough to make her uncomfortable, whilst his other talented hand brushed the bottom of her bra. They made out for what felt like hours, beginning to learn one another's bodies and panting when the other found a particularly sensitive or erotic spot. Between their sounds of pleasure were the sweetly whispered words of adoration and the constant declarations of their love for one another.

After a while, Bill pulled back breathing loudly, his eyes burning yellow into hers. "Full moon tonight." He growled, before pushing himself off the bed and holding his head in his hands, to which she, frowning at his distress but remaining quiet, rested her hand on his naked chest and kissed his cheek gently, telling him that she would prepare a light snack for them. A few minutes after she had arrived in the kitchen to make some small sandwiches, he returned, eyes once again blue.  
He gave her a hug from behind, resting his head on her shoulder, but as he opened his mouth, Hermione cut across him. "Don't you dare apologise Bill Weasley." She brandished the knife she held threateningly, and looking suitably abashed, he was silent.

They settled down at the garden table in the back with the plate of sandwiches and a pitcher of pumpkin juice between them, and chatted idly as they ate. She regaled him with tales about picnics as a child, and her eternal gratitude for insect repelling spells, and he told her of how he and Charlie used to sneak out at night with their mother's home-made cake and hide in their makeshift tree-house. "It was actually just a few planks of wood balanced across a high branch, and I'm fairly sure my dad used magic to stop them falling off, but we were young."  
"I think it sounds great." She grinned. "I never really had any friends growing up, I would've loved to have so many siblings."  
He shrugged. "It has it's pros and cons. But I wouldn't change my family for the world."  
"Speaking of, is dinner at the usual time tonight?"  
He raised an eyebrow at her. "This is my mother's dinners we're talking about, do you even need to ask?" She merely smiled in response and leant over to brush her lips gently against his.


	9. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: Nothing's mine but the plot, I just like to play around with the characters of JKR.**

 **Chapter 8**

Molly's face lit up when she saw Hermione walk through the front door of the Burrow, and she pulled her into a bone-crushing hug, before immediately directing her to the living room where, she assured her, Ron was. The man in question also embraced her tightly, giving her a kiss on each cheek as he did, and she chuckled awkwardly as she patted him on the back. "Good to see you Ron, I've missed you."  
"I've missed you too, 'Mione, where have you been?"  
"Oh you know," she gestured vaguely, "busy with this and that."  
He gave her a sweet smile. "You need to relax more, we've been saying it for years! You overwork yourself."  
She gave a familiar frown. "Ronald, I relax more than enough, thank you very much." Images of the very enjoyable morning and afternoon spent with Bill made her flush scarlet, but luckily Ron didn't seem to notice.  
"If you say so." He said, sounding a little grumpy. But soon, the familiarity of their banter made them burst into laughter, and they hugged tightly once more, this time much being much more usual to her. Amidst Mrs Wealsey's determination to set up her youngest with Hermione and her sneaking suspicion that he too, wanted them to try a romantic relationship, she hadn't realised how much she truly had missed her friend.

After only a few seconds, they heard another presence enter the room, and Harry's form joined in to squeeze them both tightly. "Hey, the Golden Trio back together!" Called Ginny from the doorway, amusement in her voice. Ron flushed slightly pink as the other two began berating her for calling them by their undesired title, but she merely giggled and pulled Hermione's arm, dragging her away. "'Mione," she began, sounding exhilarated, "you won't believe it, I-"  
She was cut off by Mrs Weasley's loud call, "Everyone's here, dinner time!" Throwing an irritated look in the voice's direction, Ginny made as if to carry on, but at that moment Hermione's parents rounded the corner and she was pulled into a tight hug by her father, seeing her friends glowering form stomp away moodily. Her mother quietly murmured that she had filled him in on the 'she's been with us each Sunday' story and not to worry, as they walked through to the garden that was home to an extended table, lit by fireflies and floating lanterns.

As per normal, she found herself opposite Bill, who had arrived minutes after her to avoid suspicion, her mother on one side of her and Ron on the other. She could see her father, placed directly next to Mr Weasley, throwing irritated looks down towards Bill, who was currently telling them the story of how he had obtained the fang that served as his earring. They were treated to one of Mrs Weasley's fantastic roasts, and Hermione found herself watching her dad wolfing down the food at a pace even Ron would be proud of, whilst answering an intense stream of questions from Arthur, looking somewhere between bemused and entertained. The whole group had arrived, so their company was fourteen strong, and the conversation was abundant. George was sat next to Bill, and she spent a lot of her time talking to him, whilst carefully checking the amount of alcohol he had drunk, only to be caught out and thrown a reassuring smile. He pointed to the glass of what looked like firewhiskey, and with a wink mouthed, 'cherryade'. She relaxed after this, catching up with Ron, ignoring the pointed looks from her mother as she indicated towards Bill, and generally enjoying herself.

She spilt her Butterbeer all over the table, however, when she felt a foot brush her upper leg and, choking, sent a dark look in the eldest Weasley child's direction, but he seemed to be absolutely involved in his conversation with Audrey, who sat on his other side, and she shook her head, thinking that she must have imagined it. Moments later, however, she felt the foot again, and audibly yelped, making many people look at her in confusion. She hid it behind a cough, and this time caught the slight smirk that crossed his face, feeling her eyes narrow as she concealed a grin. As she leant around Ron to speak to Angelina, she slipped off the sandals she was wearing and began to slowly run her foot up and down his thigh, feigning innocence as his body stiffened and he glared at her. She continued to talk to the young woman about her old friend Oliver Wood and his Quidditch teams standing, whilst moving her bare foot further up towards Bill's crotch, seeing him grating his teeth in frustration, as he tried desperately to keep using his fork and spoon on her mother's brownies.

The next thing she knew, said fork had been 'accidentally' knocked to the floor, and Hermione gave a small shriek of surprise as she felt a hand running up her thigh enticingly. Once again, all eyes were on her, and she had to give a bad impression of hiccuping as the hand was removed and Bill reappeared from under the table. Their eyes met, both lit up with amusement and arousal, but both pairs snapped away as Ron gave a loud shout in Hermione's ear. "Ron, what the heck?!" She yelled, jumping out of her seat.  
He smiled at her innocently, his voice implying that he thought he had been helpful. "Isn't that what Muggles say, that you're meant to scare someone?" She gave a small laugh, amused by his attempts to help her. "See," he said, sounding very happy with himself, "you haven't got the hiccups anymore!"  
She patted his arm in a thankful way and smiled at the looks the rest of the group were giving Ron; a mixture of confusion and exasperation.

Just as she was about to ask Charlie how he was finding the Welsh Dragon Reserve, Harry cleared his throat and stood up, looking embarrassed. Ten awkward minutes of stuttering and confusion later, he seemed to have finished his speech, yet no-one seemed to have a clue about what he had said, and, rolling her eyes fondly, Ginny stood up, holding out her hand, proudly exclaimed, "We're engaged!" This sent the whole group into a frenzy; Mrs Weasley promptly broke down in tears, Mr Weasley shook Harry's hand and embraced his only daughter tightly, the other men all began hugging Ginny and slapping Harry on the back in an overly masculine way, Audrey and Angelina both admired the large but tasteful diamond ring, and Hermione held the couple close, whispering words of congratulations. As Ginny was dragged away by Mrs Weasley to be engulfed in a tearful grasp, she pulled the man of the hour closer and whispered, "You deserve this Harry, I'm so happy for you." His emerald eyes were watering with joy as he kissed her cheek in thanks and went off to rescue his fiancée.

"At least he wasn't cheating on her." Came a low voice by her ear, and she turned to grin at a conflicted looking Bill.  
"Isn't it brilliant?!" She exclaimed.  
He frowned. "Well Harry's a decent guy, but still. He's marrying my little sister. I have to hate him, on principle."  
She laughed and shook her head. "You're unbelievable."  
He smirked and leant closer, his hands brushing her sides gently. "Would you love me if I wasn't?" He whispered in her ear, echoing his earlier words, and perhaps she might have kissed him there and then, if Ron hadn't chosen that moment to interrupt.  
"I can't believe that my best friend is marrying my little sister." He mumbled in a grouchy tone, downing the bottle of beer he was holding.  
"Honestly Ronald," She frowned, "they've been dating for years and they love each other. Can't you be happy for them?"  
"Yeah Ronniekins," George cut in, "just because your love-life is non-existent doesn't mean that you have to be jealous."  
"I'm not jealous." He snapped in reply, scowling. "Besides, why are you all having a go at me? Hermione's been single for longer than me, and what about Bill?! He doesn't even know if his kid's his 'cause his wife cheat-"  
He stopped in shock as Bill seemed to freeze mid-leap, eyes flashing amber, mouth curled in a feral snarl, stopped by Hermione's quick Immobulus Charm. Ron's mouth dropped open as he looked from his brother's eyes to the full moon hanging in the sky, and back down again. "Erm..." He next looked to the new beer bottle in his hand, and placed it on the table, shaking slightly. Looking beyond the full bottle, Hermione realised that she had been so worried about George's drinking, she hadn't noticed the steadily growing pile of Ron's empty bottles, and from the way he stumbled to the barrier, he was very drunk. "I think I'd better go." He stuttered, before disapparating with a pop.  
"Harry, dear," Molly said gently, "would you mind making sure that he gets home all right?" He nodded and, pecking Ginny on the cheek, disappeared after his friend.  
An uneasy silence ensued, before Audrey, her voice overly cheerful, said, "Well, it's never boring at the Weasleys!"

There was a quiet smattering of laughter, before people started to return inside in pairs and trios. Hermione released Bill from her spell, and spoke soothingly to him until his eyes were their normal colour again. He thanked her for stopping him, before saying that he would return home. Due to the piercing gaze of Ginny and Molly, they didn't even have a chance for a good-night kiss, but looking at the remaining wildness in his eyes, she thought it might be for the best. She walked with him to the apparation point, quietly asking if he would be okay, to receive only a mild shrug and mutters about 'maybe going for a run'. Under the pretence of hugging him goodbye, she whispered nervously, asking if she would see him tomorrow. Again, he answered non-committally, and she watched him leave sadly.

She barely had time to worry about his odd behaviour before Ginny had once again grabbed her arm in a piercing grip and dragged her indoors. She expected that they would rejoin the lively conversation beginning again from the lounge, but Ginny promptly pulled her upstairs and into her old room, and slamming the door closed behind her, she faced Hermione with a grin on her face and squealed, in a very out of character way. "Can you believe it?! He proposed!"  
She couldn't help but smile back at her. "Well, you know, I hate to say I told you so..." She laughed cheerfully.  
"I thought things were becoming bad between us," Ginny carried on, ignoring her teasing, "I mean I've been ill recently and my boobs have been aching like crazy so we haven't had sex in ages." Hermione, entirely used to the Weasley woman's bluntness, merely smiled. "So that's why I assumed he was cheating, but instead he was looking for the perfect ring. And I mean, _look at this thing_!" She thrust the ruby and diamond white gold band in her face, beaming ecstatically. "It's _frickin' gorgeous_!"  
"Gin, I'm so happy for you, and I agree, it's beautiful." Hermione replied, basking in her friend's joy. "But you didn't mention you'd been ill this morning?"  
Ginny shrugged, seemingly uninterested. "I've been throwing up a bit. Well, a lot. Harry reckons it's because of stress from training. He's been lovely looking after me, he's the best fiancée ever!" She squealed again following this, not noticing that her friend had paled considerably.  
"I need to go." Hermione stated. "I'll be back soon." Ignoring the other woman's confused spluttering, she ran down the stairs and disappeared.

...

Less than ten minutes later, she was desperately trying to talk Ginny round. "Look, just do it, okay? I'll explain later."  
Her friend frowned at the plastic stick Hermione had given her. "It just seems really unhygienic, not to mention seriously gross."  
"Just do it Gin. For me."  
She sighed and left her room for a moment, only to return with her eyebrows raised expectantly. "So now what?"  
"We have to wait a couple of minutes." Hermione was wringing her hands nervously, gazing at the box she had bought from a Muggle pharmacist only moments ago.  
"What exactly is this for, 'Mione?"  
"Uh, I'll tell you once it's finished."  
Ginny's eyebrows creased again, but her inner-gossip won out as she leant forward, the stick forgotten on her bedside cabinet. " _Soooooo_ ," She began, and Hermione automatically cringed, recognising what she called the Lavender-voice, "I saw you talking to Bill before. Anything you want to tell me?"  
She was far too distracted to even begin to talk about Bill, so instead checked the magical timer she had set, and murmured, "Only half a minute left." Ginny, knowing when to give up with her, sighed and flopped back on her bed, muttering that she wanted to see if her mother had any chocolate ice-cream in.  
Hermione snatched the stick from the table and froze when she looked at the small window on it. "Ginny..." She said quietly, showing her the screen.  
She looked in confusion at the two blue lines, then became worried. "What the hell, Hermione, am I ill or something?" She tried to interrupt but the fiery woman was off. "Seriously, you freak me out by disappearing, then come back and tell me to pee on a piece of plastic, and now you're looking at me like I have another head. So, what the hell?!"  
"Ginny!" Hermione grabbed her shoulders and gazed at her earnestly, a small smile growing. "You're pregnant!"  
Her mouth open and closed silently, and she very much resembled a fish out of water, before she managed to whisper six words. "Crap. Mum's going to kill me." She then burst into hysterically happy tears, and Hermione joined her, the pair sobbing on each other's shoulders, bumbling words of happiness and congratulations respectively.

This was how Harry found them, nearly quarter of an hour later, and Hermione quickly excused herself. Ginny grabbed her arm as she moved to leave, though, and, still blubbering, managed to force out, "Her-Her-Hermione, you-you'll b-be my M-M-Maid of Hon-Honour, w-won't y-you?"  
"Really?!" The pair burst into new floods of tears, alarming Harry even more. "O-of c-course Ginny!" She choked back.  
Harry attempted to pry the two women apart, only to be thrown backwards onto the bed when Ginny launched herself at him, still wailing wildly. He looked terrified, and glanced at his old friend over his fiancée's shoulder, quietly saying, "I managed to hear news, crap and mum. Is there something wrong with Mrs Weasley?"  
Hermione shook her head, and left the pair together. She had made it halfway down the stairs before she heard Harry's overjoyed whoop, and deciding to avoid the questions regarding her red-rimmed eyes, she left a short note saying she was tired and had gone home. She was still grinning when she fell asleep that night.


	10. Chapter 9

**A/N: So this is my last update for a week, I'll get back to it as soon as I come back. Ciao!**

 **Disclaimer: As much as I like playing with these characters lives, they're not mine.**

 **Chapter 9**

The Potter-Weasley wedding happened only two months later. The day after finding out about her pregnancy, Ginny had booked an appointment to St Mungo's, and found that she was actually ten weeks gone, and she didn't want too much of a noticeable bump when she got married. Mrs Weasley, though at first she admonished both her daughter and Harry for their pre-natal activities, took to wedding planning as soon as she realised she would be given a second grandchild. They had spent many hours convincing her that they weren't simply marrying for the sake of the baby, even calling Hermione as a witness to the fact that neither knew before the proposal, but even then the only way to earn her forgiveness was to agree that she could help plan every aspect of the wedding. Harry had no issues with this arrangement, but arguments about flowers and centrepieces could frequently be heard between the two Weasley women.

During this time, Hermione was enlisted to help the bride-to-be, though she mostly sat quietly as the redheads fought, so she barely saw Bill. She had spent the week after the dramatic dinner hoping that he would get in contact, but when he missed the next Sunday dinner, she had taken matters into her own hands; using her lunch break the next Monday, she went to Gringotts, using the excuse that she needed to get some coins out, but had been told that Mr Weasley had called in ill all last week and that day too. She had immediately apparated to Shell Cottage and, much to her distress, had found him slumped on the floor, a bottle of firewhiskey in his hand. Being used to dealing with George when he was in this state, she ignored his insistences that she leave, and instead magically took him to his bed, and, predictably, he was asleep in only a few seconds, so Hermione curled up with a book in an armchair downstairs. After he stumbled back down a few hours later, she silently handed him the potions she usually kept for George, and he, now sober, started apologising, though she brushed off his words, and merely asked why he had been hiding away, drinking, for over a week. After some gentle encouragement, he revealed that he was terrified about his reaction at the last full moon, nearly attacking Ron, and nearly losing control around her. It took a few hours, multiple references to the late Remus Lupin, and assurances (both verbal and physical) that she didn't mind his actions around her at all, before he could finally admit that the animal that showed itself on the full moon was not evil, and that he was most definitely not a bad person.

However since then, they had had hardly any time alone together, only really being able to meet up when he happened to be visiting his parents and Ginny was demanding for Hermione to agree with her that tulips were better than peonies, or late at night when all they could manage were a few tiredly spoken words through the floo before falling asleep. Occasionally they fell asleep together on her sofa, but after a particularly close call involving the bride-to-be desperately needing to know if Hermione was adverse to wearing a strapless dress, when Bill had thankfully chosen to shower not two minutes earlier, they didn't think they could risk it. They had discussed revealing their relationship to the family, but given Mrs Weasley's constant mood swings, especially as George had proposed to Angelina only a week before the wedding and Percy and Audrey had yet to set the date for their nuptials, they thought it was an incredibly bad time. Still, though, they missed each other in the weeks of dress shopping and seating plans, only being able to steal intimate moments every once in a while.

So it was a relief when the wedding day came, and though the morning was a flurry of hectic worry and yelling, the midday ceremony went without a hitch. Hermione smiled at Bill's amazed expression as she walked down the aisle in her navy dress, holding her red peonies (Molly won that argument), and cried unashamedly as the couple spoke their vows. Although the ceremony was held at a Muggle venue as Harry had invited his Aunt, Uncle and cousin, a gesture no-one else understood, and they had accepted, which not even Harry understood, the reception was held at the Burrow. (They had also invited the Grangers but they had returned to Australia to finalise some details) The Dursleys had promptly declined to have any more to do with 'that lot' than necessary, so the party boasted magic at its best for the Golden Couple, now the Golden Husband and Wife.

Hermione, seeing it as her duty as Maid of Honour, had taken it upon herself to decorate the enlarged marquis and surrounding area. Magical butterflies and tamed pixies glowed through the air, whilst floating banners and ribbons flashed and flickered different colours, bearing the happy couples names, occasionally bursting into spontaneous confetti and glitter, only to be remade from the pieces on the floor. Outside the many Weasley gnomes had been charmed to glow in the dark, and the multitude of slouched over, grumpy forms could be seen flitting through the undergrowth like strange, shining rocks. Her traditional blue flames popped up as night began to fall, much to Harry and Ron's joy, as they told stories about the many times those flames had helped them, from first year right until their Horcrux journey. Her crowning glory, however, were the many snitches flying around which, after the first dance of the now married couple, broke open to release tiny golden phoenixes, dragons, unicorns, hippogriffs and thestrals. As they erupted, silver figures of a doe, a dog, and a wolf surrounded the couple, whilst a stag and horse running side by side swept through the tent. Harry wept openly at the tribute to Lily, Sirius and Remus, and as the stag and horse stopped briefly beside them, he and Ginny both looked at their patronuses fondly. Hermione swore she could've heard him whisper that he loved his dad as the stag ran off, a doe on one side and a mare on the other.

He extracted himself from the well-wishers for a moment and pulled Hermione into a tight hug, choking slightly as he thanked her for all she had done. "They would've wanted to be here." She said softly, and felt him nod against her shoulder.  
"What are you crying about mate?" Ron interrupted, showing his usual range of emotional understanding.  
"Teaspoon." She muttered quietly. "Range of a teaspoon."  
"Nothing." Harry spoke loudly, sending an amused glance in Hermione's direction. "Just happy, I guess."  
Ron frowned slightly. "Who cries because they're happy?"  
Harry cut over the rant she was about to give him, saying, "Hey, isn't it time for the Best Man and Maid of Honour to dance?"  
Ron's face immediately brightened, and he pulled her onto the dance floor, where they started to sway slowly on the spot. She tried to engage him in conversation but, after a few grunts in response, gave up in her attempts. It was nearing the end of the song when he, his gaze firmly focussed on the tent ceiling above them, finally spoke. "You know, 'Mione, you look really great tonight." His ears were tinged pink but his eyes snapped to hers, and he smiled shyly. "Really, really beautiful."  
She blushed and mumbled her thanks, and now it was her avoiding his gaze, which was unnervingly attentive. The song they were dancing to ended, but when she made to step away, Ron merely tightened his grip on her waist, smiling at her slightly, and, not knowing what else to do, she returned her hands to his shoulders and they continued their awkward swaying, before a deep voice cut across.

"Mind if I cut in?" Bill asked politely, holding out his hand. Ron released her waist with a slight inclination of his head to his eldest brother, before scurrying away quickly; though both had apologised profusely for their behaviour over a month earlier, things were still far from comfortable between them. Bill didn't seem to care at the moment, though, as he placed one of his hands at her side and took one of her petite hands in the other. His eyes were boring into hers as he pulled her closer, and he lowered his head to press their cheeks together so he could speak quietly into her ear. "I've missed you so much."  
"I've missed you too." She whispered.  
"You look unbelievable. Radiant. Perfect."  
She smiled and tugged lightly on the lapels of his dress robes. "You don't look so bad yourself Mr Weasley."  
He gave a low chuckle and subtly kissed the back of her hand. "I loved your bit of magic before. Though I don't think the gnomes like being glowing boulders."  
She laughed softly. "I made a deal with them; if they stayed for one more night, they could come live at my place without fear of being tossed around."  
Bill pulled back slightly and blinked at her. "Wait, they can talk? Hold on, that doesn't matter; you know how annoying they can be, right?" She nodded and went on to explain how she had magically sealed off an area near the back of her property, with Ministry approval of course, where they could ramble and cause havoc to their little hearts content. Bill shook his head in amused exasperation and a loving smile graced his features. "Still saving the world one mistreated creature at a time?"  
"Of course." Forgetting their public setting, she absent-mindedly ran her fingertips over the largest of his facial scars; it stretched in a white line from one temple, cutting below one eye, to rest on his opposite jawline. He relaxed into her touch and she relished in the knowledge that only she could touch his scars without him flinching, knowing that he found solace from his fears in her love-filled eyes. Humming happily, she grinned at him. "I've even added a tree-house for them. You know, in case they missed the Burrow."  
He laughed in disbelief, taking her hands from his face and leaning their foreheads tomorrow. "You're actually unbelievable." He murmured, mouth inches away from hers and sapphire eyes twinkling at her. "I love you so much."

Before she could reply, Molly's shrill voice cut between them disapprovingly and they leapt apart, trying their best to not look guilty. "William! Don't be stealing the Maid of Honour away all night now!" He eyes were narrowed in suspicion, but Harry chose that moment to save her.  
"C'mon 'Mione, let's dance. And I'm the groom so you have to say yes." They laughingly went towards the centre of the floor, where Ron and Ginny were moving in a jagged dance, both hissing at the other and obviously in the middle of an argument. Harry chuckled, but gave them a wide berth, knowing all too well that Ginny's temper was terrifying at times. "So, Miss Granger," he began as they spun together, "you and Bill seemed rather, er, comfortable earlier." He raised his ebony eyebrows at her in a silent question.  
She shrugged her shoulders and refused to meet his eyes, pretending to be fascinated in what seemed to be a little golden unicorn and thestral having a stand off. "I don't know what you're talking about, we were only dancing."  
He gave an indelicate snort that Ron would be proud of. "Yeah, right."  
"Harry!" She admonished. "Just because it's your wedding day, I won't hesitate to charm your mouth shut. I danced with Ron, then I danced with Bill, that's all."  
"Hermione, you can't seriously expect me to believe that you call what you did with either of them a dance. With Ron you just looked awkward and with Bill you looked like you were about to-"

"For Godric's sake will you just _shut up_!" Hermione looked around to see who Molly was yelling at, pitying them for the impending wrathful scolding, but after a moment, realised that Mrs Weasley was also looking concerned, and the sound had come from her daughter, who had obviously inherited her impressive range of shrieks. The bride was standing with her hands on her hips, glaring at the youngest Weasley son, who was still muttering something earnestly to her before-  
 _Slap_. Ginny's hand connected with Ron's cheek with a sickening crunch. As she turned to run out of the tent, everyone saw the tears streaming down her face, not that she seemed to notice as she blindly pushed her way through the crowd. Ron seemed frozen, mouth opened and shock written over his features, staring at the spot his sister had vacated and blinking stupidly. Hermione nodded from Harry to Ron, silently telling him to sort him out, before hurrying after her friend.

She found her curled up in the old shed, bitterly crying over a broom, ignorant or uncaring about the dirt that was quickly covering her dress. "It's a Cleansweep Five." She stated in a deadened voice when Hermione had managed to calm her down enough to speak. "When I was six, Fred took me up on this, even though mum and dad didn't let us on proper brooms until we were nine. I was so small, and we seemed to go so high, but I felt safe, because I was with him." She finally drew her eyes from her late brother's broom and gazed at her with red-rimmed eyes. "Ron thinks it's my duty to name my baby after Fred if it's a boy." She stroked her slightly rounded stomach gently. "But Harry and I have already agreed on names. James Sirius for a boy, or Lily Luna for a girl." Tears streaked down her cheeks again. "I miss Fred so much," she choked out, "but I've still got a family, you know? I think it's right to honour his mum and dad and Sirius, because, we're the only ones that properly can now. Fred still has so many people that love and remember him, but they don't, Harry's their only family left. And I know it'll mean the world to him, he doesn't have anyone so-"  
Hermione interrupted her for the first time, though still continued her gently soothing back-rubs. "He does have people," she murmured softly, "he has your brothers and parents, and all his friends, and Neville, Luna, me. But more important that anything else; he has a beautiful wife," she hugged her friend before dropping to her knees before her to kiss the little baby bump already showing, "and a gorgeous baby on the way. Fred would've wanted nothing less for you than to have a family with the man you love."  
Ginny was crying again. "I just wanted today to be happy, and Ron kept on going on about how I'd be insulting his memory if I didn't-"  
"Ron's an idiot." Hermione brushed Ginny's tears away. "And do you know what would be an insult to Fred?" She shook her head mutely. "If we didn't go back in there and cast a long-lasting charm on Ron's hair to make it green."

Giving a watery giggle, the new Mrs Potter and her best friend left the broom-shed and, after using charms to conceal the evidence of her distress, made their way back to the wedding, Ginny now openly grinning as they discussed their plans. They reached the tent and entered with all due grandeur, Harry immediately rushing to his wife and asking if she was all right. Obviously, he had wheedled the story out of his Best Man as he continuously sent dark glares his way, but Ginny merely smiled and gracefully accepted her brother's hug of apology. Instantly, the tent erupted into howls of laughter, Harry roaring and clutching his sides in pain, whilst Mrs Weasley screeched in alarm. Ron merely looked confused, and Ginny turned and winked at Hermione, who was subtly replacing her wand to the holster on her thigh.

"I saw that, you know." Came an all too familiar voice purring in her ear. "And I have to compliment your handiwork, though right now I confess that I'm more interested as to where you've hidden your wand." She shot Bill a coy look and, after checking that no-one was looking, lifted her dress to reveal the high harness, as well as a brief glance of her lacy underwear. His eyes darkened, but, not wanting to risk anything, they contented themselves with brushing their hands together lightly whilst standing together. They looked on in amusement as Ron tried to discover the source of everyone's humour, before finally catching his reflection in a mirror conjured by Molly, and screaming in a way that reminded Hermione of the little girls she had grown up with. Ginny came to stand at Hermione's other side, and they shared a wicked smirk, before returning their attentions to the spluttering man with bright green and purple striped hair across the room from them.

It was in the early hours of the morning before Ginny decided that her brother had suffered enough, and went off in search of her friend to release the spell. It took her quite a while, however, as she and Bill had slipped out at the first possible moment, to walk through the orchard, talking, laughing and embracing one another. They thought in wonder about how only four and a half months ago they had been in the very same place, talking about very different circumstances. After nearly an hour, they came close enough to hear the music from the marquis, and as they smiled lovingly at each other, some of Hermione's magical butterflies floated over, bathing the woody scene in ethereally magical light. Bill pulled her close and held her to his chest as they moved slowly to the music, murmuring words of adoration and love to the night air. Ginny happened upon them here, and, though she couldn't hear anything, smiled knowingly as Bill tilted her best friend's chin up and kissed her softly.


	11. Chapter 10

**A/N I'm ba-ack! I'll try to return to my routine of uploading every three or so days, and I hope you continue to review, fave, follow and most importantly, enjoy!**

 **Also, I should warn you, this chapter has some sexual scenes in it (my first attempt at smut) so if that stuff bothers you feel free to skip it.**

 **Disclaimer: Until they perfect genetic cloning and I get her brain transplanted into my head, I'm still not JKR.**

 **Chapter 10**

The next two weeks were spent in bliss for Hermione and Bill; with Harry and Ginny away on honeymoon, her parents still away and Mrs Weasley and George fully engrossed in wedding details, they found perfect solitude in her woodland cottage. Bill had taken to sleeping there, claiming that he couldn't bear the cold atmosphere at his own place, and Hermione wasn't at all adverse to the arrangement. It had taken a few days for her to convince him that sleeping on the sofa was unnecessary, and even then he seemed doubtful about staying in her bed with her, concerned that she would feel pressured, but she quickly silenced that thought with a stern glare and passionate kiss which ended, to her delight, with him not only agreeing to sleep with her at night, but to also do so shirtless.

They spent the time making up for the six weeks they had barely seen each other, and both booked a weeks holiday from their respective jobs to fully enjoy being together, and the Thursday after the wedding, midway through their week-long holiday, became a day that Hermione would never forget. She awoke to the scarred, yet perfect, chest of her love against her thin vest, making her nipples immediately stiffen, and though she tried to get up as quietly as possible to avoid disturbing him, Bill's arm threw out to catch her waist, dragging her back down. Giggling, she kissed his neck, his bleary eyes widening slightly as her hands experimentally ran down his body, past his abs, to hook her fingers through the waistband of his boxers. Bill jumped as if he'd been hit with a particularly nasty shocking charm, and promptly ran from the bedroom, yelling back that he would make breakfast after a shower. Blinking in confusion and feeling slightly rejected, she went downstairs to make the coffee and pay the Daily Prophet owl, until Bill returned seeming much more relaxed, and gave her a kiss on the cheek as he began to cook some bacon. Hermione read through the predictably miserable news, sipping her coffee, and smiled as he placed her bacon sandwich before her, extra crispy as he knew she liked.

Wheedling the morning away with reading and casual conversation, they enjoyed a light lunch before deciding to go to Muggle London for the afternoon. They had visited the area a few times recently, for dinners out of the house or light snacks from bakers and had visited the more famous places (she took great pleasure in explaining all the different parts of the Natural History Museum to him) and also found one or two ideal make-out spots. But they hadn't yet visited the shopping central of London, and Hermione couldn't resist the chance to introduce Bill to the concept of onesies.

Never having been much of a shopper, she didn't think that she had ever enjoyed idly walking in and out of stores so much. In the book stores they visited, Bill was so entranced with the children's books that she ended up buying him The Very Hungry Caterpillar, laughing loudly as his eyes lit up in joy. He was equally impressed in the music stores, peering with interest at an i-pod, poking it experimentally until Hermione plugged the nearby speakers in and he jumped in shock as the sound blared out at him. She clutched her sides, unable to control her mirth, as Bill tried to understand how to work the small device to quieten the heavy rock music filling the store, until she took pity on him and showed him how to use the wheel.

Nothing amused her more though than wandering around the clothes stores that she usually avoided like the Avada Kedavra, as she had never understood the stereotypically female desire to spend hours looking through tops that all looked the same to her. But while she began to speed-walk towards the women's jeans section, fully intent on grabbing what she needed and leaving as quickly as humanly possible, Bill ambled casually along, seemingly totally at ease. When Hermione hissed at him to hurry up, he merely grabbed a fluorescent pink sun-hat and shoved it on his head, twirling an the spot and asking if it suited him. She giggled and grabbed a pair of glittering children's sunglasses and a floaty purple scarf, adding them to his ridiculous ensemble and pronouncing him perfect. They spent nearly an hour dressing each other up with giant flower hair-clips and heaps upon heaps of plastic jewellery; only when Bill -sporting a fluffy tutu, a golden tiara with matching clip on earrings (his fang dangling hilariously beneath the a tacky yellow plastic), and some pastel pink children's wings with a fabric wand- became overcome with laughter, did they finally stop, to the disappointment of the small group of little girls that had watched their small show. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and, both laughing loudly, left the store, jeans forgotten.

After dinner at a small Italian bistro, rather than heading straight back they decided to apparate to the Forest of Dean, where Hermione told him about the holiday she had taken there with her parents. They swapped stories about where they had been, and places they would love to visit in the future, talking until the crescent moon hung high in the sky. Though the night was clear and mild at first, a stiff wind soon picked up and they went home, curling up in front of the fire, she with a glass of wine and he with firewhiskey, wrapped in an old worn blanket and idly tracing the lines on each other's skin.

When Bill reached her forearm, he traced the letters marring her skin sadly. "I almost envy my mum." He murmured lowly. At her confused look he continued. "She got to kill the bitch. I would've loved the chance to do it myself."  
Hermione gave a humourless smile and ran her hands over his scarred chest. "Did you ever find out who killed Greyback?"  
"Remus had the pleasure, before Dolohov got him."  
She smirked bitterly. "That seems right, though I wouldn't have minded doing it myself. Then again I would've liked a shot at Dolohov too." He tilted his head inquisitively, and she lifted her top to show the raised line on her chest from the Department of Mysteries. "I was sixteen," she explained, "luckily he was silenced, otherwise it would've killed me."  
He scowled. "The _bastard_. I'm glad Flitwick ended him."  
Hermione sighed. "We were all too young. There was too much killing, too much pain. We lost too many." They hugged tightly, no words able to express the loss they still felt after their so-called victory.

They moved on to more tolerable conversations, until the fire burned out and they headed up to her room. While Bill was in the bathroom getting ready for bed, Hermione sat on the edge of the bed, breathing slowly and steeling her nerves. When he came back in she kissed him softly, but passionately, and after many whispered words and reassurances that she was sure, he made love to her for the first time. It was awkward and painful at first, but the adoring look in his eyes banished any doubts that she had made a mistake in choosing to do this tonight. Afterwards he wrapped his body tightly around hers, murmuring how much he loved her, and they fell into a satisfied slumber.

...

The morning after found Hermione sore but happy, and though she felt somehow different, she checked in the mirror and found that she didn't actually have a tattoo on her forehead stating 'Not A Virgin'. Bill flooed out, as he did every day, to visit Shell Cottage for fresh clothes, to make sure the empty house was still habitable and to check for word from France. Under her gentle persuasion he had contacted Madame and Monsieur Delacour in an attempt to find Fleur so he could see Victoire, but they had sadly told him that they hadn't heard from their daughter for months, though had promised to tell him at once if they did. It had been nearly six months since he'd seen the girl he called his daughter, and Hermione knew he missed her bitterly; no amount of distraction or comfort on her part could heal the four-year old shaped hole in his heart, and it seemed to hover over their relationship like an unspoken black cloud.

He was back within the hour, the empty look in his eyes indication of the lack of news, though he brightened considerably when she wrapped her arms around him in a consoling hug. They stayed in for the rest of the day, lazing around as the early September wind and rain battered the world outside. "What do you want for your birthday?" He asked suddenly.  
She blinked; she'd forgotten that her birthday was in a couple of weeks. Shrugging, she smiled at him. "Nothing. Just as long as I can see you."  
He sighed. "That is the single most annoying answer anyone can give to that question."  
"Well what do you want?"  
He smirked. "Nothing. Just as long as I can see you."  
She slapped his arm lightly as he laughed at her. "Shut up old man."  
He jumped on her and started tickling her mercilessly, speaking with amusement over her shrieks. "Thirty-four is not old, say it." She shook her head and he tickled her harder. "Say it!"  
"Okay, okay!" She squealed.  
"Say it..."  
"Fine, thirty-four isn't old!" He grinned triumphantly and sat back, legs either side of her hips and eyes twinkling. But quick as a whip she rolled them over so she was straddling him, and they rolled around on the floor, giggling madly for a few minutes. Eventually, and predictably, Bill's strength won out and he was gazing down at her again, holding both her arms above her head with one hand and holding his weight up with the other, to avoid crushing her. She admired the toned form above her, muscles flexing through his thin shirt, and shivered slightly as he growled playfully, "Do you give up?"  
Raising her head to meet his, she whispered, "Never." His hold faltered as he lowered his lips to instinctively meet hers, and she took the opportunity, pulling her wrists from his grasp and twisting so she was lying flush on his chest, smirking at his shocked look, before she finally kissed him, slow and sweet.

She untied his hair and ran her fingers through it slowly, whilst he gently grasped hers to pull her closer, as if he was trying to mould their mouths together, but as passionate as the kiss was quickly becoming, his hand only softly ran up and down her back, obviously still worried about her tenderness. She was having none of it, however, her body heat quickly rising and the space between her legs dampening, and, in an unusual show of bravery, reached between them to grab his denim-clad member in her small hand. He groaned into her mouth, and quickly hardened, his eyes flickering open to gaze heatedly at her. "I thought you'd still be sore?" He asked huskily.  
She replied, equal arousal in her voice. "I am, a bit, but I don't care." She quickly slipped both of her hands under the hem of his shirt and lifted it over his head, ducking her head to nip at his ear and neck. She felt him growl lowly, and allowed him to flip them back over, his mouth immediately moving to devour her hers, nibbling at her lower lip and teasing her tongue with his own. Her body arched into his and he took the chance to push the top of her dress down, moving his thumbs to immediately brush over her sensitive nipples. She hissed as he started to trail love bites across her collarbone, expertly unlatching her bra as he went, before replacing one of his hands with his hot mouth, sucking covetously on the pert bud. She openly moaned, digging her nails into his back so hard she was sure there would be marks tomorrow, and his resulting groan vibrated against her excited body, energising her even more.

He released her and raised himself above her slightly, smirking at her heaving breasts, whilst panting slightly himself. "We don't have to do this, you know."  
She frowned and dragged him back down by the top of his jeans, quickly undoing his button and zip as she did so. "Shut up." She breathed, using her legs to push the denim down his legs, leaving him in only his blue boxers, the fabric being considerably strained by his erection. Once again she teased him, wrapping her hand around him and squeezing slightly, revelling in the way his eyes became unfocussed and heavy-lidded. She had no doubt that if it were closer to the full moon, the intense blue would be golden, but she knew that the aroused and loving look would be the same whatever the time.

He reached down and grabbed her hand, removing it with shallow breaths, murmuring that he was too close for comfort. She grinned at the affect she had on him, but the smile soon moved into an 'o' of pleasure as his hand slipped under her dress and began teasing her wet core through the thin lace of her knickers. She barely even cared as he chuckled knowingly at her resulting gasps, and happily raised her hips in assistance as he dragged her dress the rest of the way down her body, kissing his way back up her legs. His mouth left a heated path as he ran up the insides of her thighs, and she felt her head dizzying as he placed a single kiss on the now soaking material covering her core, before he swiftly disposed of the fabric, removing his boxers as he did so.

Their mouths met again, after Bill had murmured a quick contraceptive charm, this time slow and reassuring. Before long, however, she wrapped her legs around his back, placing him firmly at her entrance, and he pushed forward slowly. He buried his head in her neck as hers fell back, the mixture of her still tender inside muscles and the alien feeling of being filled so completely sending confusing tingles through her body. But when she wriggled her hips experimentally, all thoughts of soreness were banished from her mind as intense waves of pleasure overcame her, and she pulled him tighter to her body, scratching down his back as he started to slowly move in and out of her. His breath was hot on her cheek as he breathed rapidly, and when he changed position slightly, hitting the most sensitive spot inside her, she cried out loudly. His movements increased speed, constantly hitting that sweet spot, and, unashamedly, she moaned over and over, raising her hips to meet him thrust for thrust. Hermione felt a strange feeling building inside her, and, unnerved, tried to hold it back, but as he began to bite her ear and flick one nipple with his fingers, the feeling mounted uncontrollably. Bill, his breathing as ragged as hers, whispered, "Let go love," and as he moved his hand to lightly stroke the bundle of nerves above her entrance, she came, screaming his name loudly. The feeling of her walls clamping tightly down on his throbbing erection was more than enough to send him over the edge, and with just a few more irregular pushes, he emptied himself into her, groaning and gasping her name as he did so.

He moved onto his back to avoid crushing her, pulling her with him as he went, until her head was resting on his panting chest. He conjured a blanket to cover their legs, and she smiled as she watched the shadows of the flames dancing across his sweat-laced skin. Her arm was draped lazily across his waist, his wrapped securely around her shoulders as he kissed her hair lovingly as she moved slightly to lie, cross-armed along his shoulders, her head resting on her hands, gazing in adoration up at Bill. "What are you looking at?" He asked, sounding amused.  
She shrugged. "You."  
He leant forward and kissed her sweetly. "I love you." He whispered against her lips, gently stroking her cheek.  
"I love you too." She smiled, before settling back down, feeling her eyes close slowly, and they fell asleep in front of the fire, one of Hermione's hands stretching out to hold his, her head tucked securely under his chin.


	12. Chapter 11

**A/N: Big love to everyone who took the time to review; I'm so happy that you seem to be enjoying this story! Extra special love to cares1970 (your comments always make me smile :) ) and dixie326 (hehe, George would never let them forget it!)**

 **Disclaimer: Everything recognisable belongs to Ms Rowling.**

 **Chapter 11**

The following Sunday they went to the Burrow as per usual, though today it was significantly less crowded than normal. Harry and Ginny were on honeymoon until Friday, Angelina was ill (Hermione suspected that she too was pregnant pre-marriage, but didn't dare ask) and George had stayed home to care for her, and Charlie was on a date with a work friend, much to Molly's delight. This meant that rather than the usual twelve, there were only seven; Molly, Arthur, Percy, Audrey, Ron, Hermione and Bill. She didn't think that Percy had missed a single meal at his parent's house since the war, and she knew that he still hadn't forgiven himself for his mutiny against his family. Ron, too, seemed to be coming every week, although Bill had told her that he had missed many meals whilst she was away looking for her parents; he said this with distinct bitterness, which Hermione had laughed at, kissing away the frown resting between his eyes.

Molly seemed no less enthused for the get-together than usual, despite the fewer numbers, and instantly started berating Percy and Audrey for not setting a date for their wedding yet. Audrey, one of the few who had the courage, or perhaps stupidity, to challenge Mrs Weasley, immediately began listing the advantages of a long engagement, whilst Percy looked awkward and the other four grinned at one another. Eventually their argument burned out, and Molly sent the table into awkward silence as she bluntly asked; "So Bill, when will we see Victoire again?" He stiffened, and Hermione looked at him with obvious concern, whilst everyone else sent scandalous looks in the matriarchs direction.  
"I don't know mum." He said coldly.  
"Well are you at least trying to get in touch with Fleur? What about the Delacours, they might be able to sort something out. It's just not right-"  
"None of them have seen her or Victoire." He interrupted in a tone that most people would understand as a dismissal, but then Molly Weasley was not most people.  
"So you have been trying!" She exclaimed happily. "Oh, wonderful, I'm sure that you and Fleur can work something out, maybe even save your marriage!"  
Hermione glared at her, ready to defend him, before noticing Bill's dark look. "Mrs Weasley, I'm sure Bill can sort this out himself." She cut in nervously.  
"Oh I know dear, I just hope that-"  
"Are you forgetting that she cheated on me for over five years, mother?" Bill sounded almost dangerous, and she discreetly rested a soothing hand over his clenched first under the table. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, and seemed to exhale heavily. "Mum, I'm trying, okay? I've asked the Delacours to get in touch if they hear from her, and as soon as she reappears I'll speak to her about Victoire."  
"But-"  
Mr Weasley cut swiftly over his wife. "You know that we'll both support you whatever happens Bill, won't we Molly?" He looked pointedly at his wife and, sighing in defeat, she smiled and nodded at her eldest.

The rest of the meal was spent in awkward silence, and when Arthur offered everyone a post-dinner glass of firewhiskey, they all, excluding Molly, jumped at the offer. After a few more glasses than they would usually have, they were once more in high spirits, giggling at how it had taken them nearly two days to undo the charm Hermione had cast on Ron's hair at the wedding. "I had to meet with Kingsley with that hair!" He scolded, frowning, only to receive more peals of laughter. "Anyway," he continued, obviously desperate for a subject change, "we spent forever trying to find you that night, 'Mione, where were you? And where have you been staying? I tried to visit you the other day but your flat's empty and you weren't at your parents either."  
"Um, I actually got left a little cottage by an Aunt I had." She said, inwardly groaning.  
"You never mentioned that!" He exclaimed.  
"I forgot that I even had it." She mumbled, avoiding his gaze. "So Mr Weasley, how are George and Angelina's plans going?"  
Before he could bail her out, Ron spoke again. "Well where is it? I miss the days when we would just drop in on each other."  
"It's just a random place in the forest, I'm not even sure about the address." She lied. "But you know owls, they can find you wherever you are, just send me an letter and I can meet you at Diagon Alley or somewhere."  
He frowned slightly. "Well how about you side-along apparate me when you go home tonight, then I'll know how to get there?"  
"That sounds like a wonderful idea!" Said Molly, walking through the door suddenly. "I know that Ron misses you awfully Hermione, and I'm sure you miss him too!" She pulled them both up and side-hugged them, one under each arm, putting their faces awkwardly close together. Ron blushed but grinned in amusement, whilst Hermione tilted her head to see Bill's disapproving look, clearly aimed at his mother.  
"The thing is, Ron..." She started, desperately thinking of excuses.  
"Hermione's been helping me redesign Shell Cottage." Bill cut in, causing six pairs of eyes to snap towards him in confusion. "I thought it needed some a new look, and 'Mione offered to help in her time off. We decided that it would be easier for her to just stay there, in the guest room, for a while."  
"That's right." She cut in, catching on quickly. "We wanted it to be a surprise, that's why we didn't tell anyone."  
"And I've put up anti-apparition wards, so you'll only be able to see the finished thing." Bill added quickly.  
Molly grinned in delight and, casually pushing Ron away, pulled Hermione into a full, tight hug. "Oh how wonderful! I can't say I approve of a man and woman living together like that, but as it's you two I know I can trust you! That really is so kind of you Hermione!" She smiled fondly at her before casually asking, "Do you mind if I have a quiet word with you, dear?"

Nodding, and confused, she followed Mrs Weasley back into the kitchen, where she was met with an almost unnervingly happy smile. "Hermione, I can't thank you enough for all you've done for Bill, he seems so much more cheerful nowadays, like a different man! But I really don't think you should be working so much, take some time off too enjoy yourself!"  
"I do, Mrs Weasley, I-"  
She continued talking as if Hermione hadn't even spoken. "I know that Ron would love to go to dinner with you at some point."  
"Well I think we're planning to meet up for a few drinks with Harry when he gets back from his honeymoon."  
Molly chuckled as if she'd heard a particularly amusing joke. "I meant just the two of you, dear, it's been so long since you had a catch up! And I know how close you used to be, I hope that hasn't changed?"  
"Of course not, Mrs Weasley, but-"  
"Well then, you should go to dinner together, or even a Muggle movie!" She was smiling in such an excited way that Hermione, giving an awkward laugh and a forced smile, agreed that she would owl Ron to meet up.

She re-entered the lounge and, shooting Bill a sharp look and an eye-flick, sat at the end of the two seater. Ron immediately stood up to sit next to her, but Bill, correctly interpreting her discomfort, beat him to it, under the pretence of discussing the best flowers to plant in the garden. "I've always loved roses." He stated bluntly as soon as he sat down, effectively cutting off any other opportunity to engage her in conversation. She smiled at him gratefully, whilst Ron glared daggers into his back, and he gave her a subtle wink, before they continued their random, idle conversation, which resulted in the whole room roaring with laughter about Xenophilius Lovegood's Dirigible Plums. Audrey became involved now, asking what in Merlin's name they were, and before long Hermione was treating them to her one, and only, experience with Freshwater Plimpy Soup.

"So that would be when you were on the run bringing down You-Know-Who?" Audrey asked with interest.  
Hermione quietened and looked at her lap, always hating the constant requests for details about the 'Golden Trios' lives. Ron, however, was in his element, and jumping on the opportunity to once again brag about their Horcrux hunt, spun an overly exaggerated story involving multiple snatcher encounters and frequent daring escapades into Death Eater territories. She was reminded of their time in fourth year when they were both 'prizes' for Triwizard Champions, but cheered when she saw that Audrey glanced at Hermione throughout, giggling slightly whenever she gave a slight snort of disbelief. But it was Bill that finally broke through his brother's false tale.  
"And what about when you abandoned 'Mione and Harry? A few months in, when it became too much for you, and you just left? From what I remember, you were at my place for quite a while, and enjoyed quite a lot of food and comforts, especially over Christmas."  
The whole group gaped at him, Ron turning vividly red while Hermione dramatically paled. It seemed that this was news to the Weasleys, as they looked scandalised. "You left them?" Arthur asked quietly. Ron simply nodded, looking ashamed, and his father sighed heavily. "I think we'd better go to bed. Come on, Molly." Mrs Weasley's eyes were filling with tears as she looked at her youngest son, but she accepted his hand and their steps could be heard going up the stairs. Percy merely shook his head, and he and Audrey left, her giving Hermione a sympathetic look as she went.

As soon as they heard the faint pop that indicated their departure, Ron rounded on his brother. "Where the hell do you get off, telling them that?!"  
"It's the truth Ron." Bill replied coldly.  
"Well they didn't have to bloody know, did they?!"  
"Ronald, calm down." Hermione interjected, using her best no-nonsense voice, though she was betrayed by her shaking.  
"No, 'Mione, he has no right!"  
"No right?!" Bill erupted suddenly. "Says the guy who makes himself out to be a hero when he left his supposed best friends because it got too hard for Ickle Ronnie."  
"I told you I regretted it!" Ron yelled back, now so red in the face that Hermione was surprised steam wasn't pouring from his ears.  
"But you still did it!" Bill countered. "'Mione and Harry never gave up, and all they do is try to deny that they are actual heroes!"  
"So once again I'm not as good as the bloody Chosen One?"  
"Good Godric, I can't even look at you right now." Bill was suddenly quiet, and he promptly left; moments later they heard the door slam.  
"Hey, 'Mione, you know I regret leaving, right?" Ron asked her, still fuming but now sounding uncertain.  
"I know you do, Ron, but don't make up stories about that year. It was horrible enough without lies, and it's disrespectful to the people we lost to make ourselves out to be heroes." With this line, she stood up. "I think I'd better go."  
"Back to Bill's place?" He asked scathingly.  
She shook her head wearily, unable to even argue with him anymore. "Anywhere but here, Ron." She promptly left, ignoring his yells for her to return, and disapparated back to her cottage, hoping that Bill would be there.

To her relief, he was indeed there, but to her concern, he was pacing before the fire, muttering angrily. She sat on the sofa and rubbed her temples in an attempt to dispel the headache that was quickly forming, waiting for him to finish his raging. Eventually, he sat down next to her and she decided to finally speak. "You know, you really shouldn't have done that-"  
"He has no right to call himself-"  
"-but I'm glad you did."  
He blinked at her in shock, before wrapping her in a tight hug. "He's too damn cocky for his own good. Sometimes someone needs to put him in his place." He attempted to explain, to which she laughed.  
"I've known him since I was eleven, I know how ridiculous he can be." He smiled, joking that he had known him for longer, before noticing the pained look on her face. He promptly took her upstairs and, leaning against the headboard, sat her in-between his legs, where he began to rub her shoulders in a way that made her head loll back in relaxation. He slowly moved his big hands to her neck, kneading the tension in her muscles away, before, sensing her impending sleep, he moved to spoon her, smiling against her hair.

 **Just want to say a quick thanks to the people who let me know I accidentally posted twice, I appreciate it!  
**


	13. Chapter 12

**A/N Had a great response once more from you lovely people, many thanks! Guest, Kittyinaz and arabellagrace I hope you're not too angry with me for making Molly out to be such an interfering so-and-so. ShadowPrincess1612 and Kittyinaz I put a little thank you note at the end of the last chapter but just wanted to extend my gratitude once more for pointing out my mistake. Cat130, glad you're enjoying it! And cares 1970, as ever, your comments brighten up my days :)**

 **Some mature content and more interfering Weasleys now; enjoy it!**

 **Disclaimer: Everything HP is Ms Rowlings, I just like playing around with their lives like some strange puppeteer.**

 **Chapter 12**

Their time of private bliss was interrupted the following Saturday; Harry and Ginny had returned on Friday and, in her usual way, Mrs Weasley had thrown a celebration for them at the Burrow. They all enjoyed stories of their honeymoon, though Ron seemed very preoccupied and the Weasleys, especially and unusually Arthur, were all slightly cold towards him. Obviously Charlie, George and Angelina had been filled in on the news of his desertion six years prior, as they all gave disapproving looks as he greeted them warmly, and barely spoke to him the entire night. The Potters were at first confused at the family's behaviour until Hermione, whispering, filled them in, entirely unsurprised that Harry had already told Ginny, and after he learnt the reason behind his exclusion, Harry made an extra effort to involve his friend, as if through obvious and loud conversations with him, he could reconcile him with the others. Hermione was neither distant nor overly welcoming, choosing instead to sit quietly and subtly watch Angelina until she was sure that her suspicions of her pregnancy were true. She was also sure that George knew, as he kept gently brushing her stomach, gazing at her with more adoration than ever, and, in what seemed to her to be a sign of solidarity, also refused any alcoholic drink.

This behaviour went unnoticed, however, as the attention was firmly placed in Harry and his now twenty weeks pregnant wife. Ginny now had a distinctive baby bump, which she was proudly showing off, smiling as the women cooed and the men clapped her husband on the back. They spent most of the feast Molly had prepared listening to stories of their honeymoon in New Zealand, Ginny telling them eagerly of the rugby team's Haka, and Harry looking somewhat unnerved as she described the player's muscled forms. She winked at Hermione as she gave this description, earning herself a frown of confusion which quickly turned into irritation when Ginny merely laughed. She felt Bill's hand resting on her knee and turned to see him gazing at her inquisitively, to which she merely shrugged and sighed, indicating her head slightly in his sister's direction, before her attention was once again pulled away from him by Ron, who seemed intent on keeping them from saying more than two words to each other.

She was concerned that he might suspect something going on between her and his brother, but it was not Ron that ruined the sanctity of their secret the day after the meal. Mid-morning, luckily after Bill had left for Shell Cottage, Ginny appeared through the floo, a Cheshire-cat grin on her face. Hermione immediately became apprehensive as her friend merely sat in an armchair and continued to smile widely at her. "Um, hi?" She said slowly, unnerved by her continuing stare.  
"Well hello yourself, 'Mione." She replied cheerfully.  
"Something I can help you with?"  
She gave a mock dramatic sigh. "Can't a girl merely drop in to see her best friend? You'd almost think that you were expecting someone." She smiled slyly, a wicked look in her eyes.  
"Uh, no, I'm not waiting for anyone. It's just a, well, a surprise to see you here. I thought you'd be settling back in at home. A good surprise though." She added quickly.  
Ginny gave an indelicate snort. "We were away for two weeks, not two years. Besides, I had to get out of the house, Harry's gone into major over protective mode; he barely even lets me _pee_ on my own. So I thought, where better to escape to than Hermione's place? Oh, and speaking of, why does my family seem to think you're living at Shell Cottage?" She gave a brief overview of Ron's insistence to know where she lived, and Bill's lucky save. "How nice of Bill." Ginny commented after she'd finished. "You two seem to be getting on pretty well." The sly smirk was back, and Hermione felt her traitorous cheeks warm in a blush.  
"I don't know what you mean." She mumbled.  
She gave a single, loud bark of laughter. "Sure you don't."  
"Look, Gin, what are you trying to get at here?"

Ginny walked nonchalantly around the room, her back to Hermione. "This painting is really nice." She called gaily, but at Hermione's loud yell, she turned and gave her a small smile. "I saw you, 'Mione. At my wedding. In the forest. With Bill. Dancing. And kissing." Hermione felt the blood drain from her face, going in just a few minutes from tomato red to milk white. Seeing this, Ginny walked over and held her hands reassuringly. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. I guess you two have your reasons for keeping it secret, one of them most likely being my dear mother, so I'll keep it to myself."  
Hermione blinked. "You don't find it weird or anything?"  
"I always knew that you would end up with one of my brothers. I mean, for a while, I thought it'd be Ron, but by the sounds of it, he's been a right arse recently. You and Bill are a better match anyway, and like I said a few months ago, you make him happy. I already know that you're a great couple, I'm really pleased for you."  
They hugged, Hermione thanking her profusely. "I really appreciate it Gin, and I have to be honest, it's kind of nice to have someone to talk to about it!"  
"Well talk then!" Ginny insisted.  
She sighed happily in a very un-Hermione fashion. "It's amazing. He's just so great, I can't even tell you what-"  
"Have you had sex?" Ginny interrupted bluntly. Hermione spluttered and flushed violently, refusing to answer, which made her friend frown. "'Mione, when I say Harry's being protective, I mean that he's barely even _touched_ me since he found out about the baby. He's worried about hurting it or something." She grumbled, sounding frustrated and saying something which sounded suspiciously like 'stupid bloody boy who bloody lived'. "So I _need_ details of _someone's_ sex life."  
"Ginny, I am definitely _not_ talking to you about sex with your brother."  
She grinned triumphantly. "So you _have_ had sex with him!" She squealed in excitement, and Hermione buried her head in her hands.

It was this scene that Bill entered to as he flooed back, immediately stuttering some excuse about buying some furniture for Shell Cottage. This made Ginny roar in laughter, and Hermione hide her face even deeper in her palms. "Make sure you get nice, strong beds Bill." Ginny chuckled as she stepped back into the fire. Bill, frowning in confusion, managed to pry Hermione's hands away from her face and coax the conversation she's just had out of her.

"So," he said eventually, a small smirk growing. "You think I'm great?"  
" _Bill!_ " She screeched.  
"Okay, okay, sorry. I have to be honest, it's really weird that Ginny wants to know about us having sex."  
"You're telling me." She muttered in reply. "I guess it's the hormones or something." When Bill asked if she believed Ginny would keep her silence, she shrugged. "She might tell Harry, but I can't see her shouting it from the rooftops. She knows how your mum would react, especially after she practically coerced me into a 'date' with Ronald the other day." Giving the sarcastic quotation marks with her fingers at the word date, she didn't notice Bill's clenched fists.  
"You're going on a date with Ron?" He asked with a tight voice, standing up and pacing in front of the window.  
She followed him and rested a hand on his arm, speaking softly. "It won't really be a date." She said reassuringly. "We'll go to dinner and a few drinks at the Leaky Cauldron, then I'll ask Ginny to 'accidentally' bump into us. It'll be fine." He finally turned to face her, and she saw his eyes were tinted with amber. Doing some quick calculations, she realized that it was the full moon tonight; she had been so concerned with the others last night she'd paid little attention to his short nature. "Bill," she said slowly, "I love you, only you. I'll never be with Ron," At his brother's name he growled lowly, "you're the only one for me." She watched as he consciously slowed his breathing, and smiled as the gold slowly slipped away, the usual sapphire replacing it. He half-smiled in embarrassment, and she reached up on her tip-toes to kiss him lightly.

"So," She said in her best business voice, as she wandered through to the kitchen, grabbing two diet cokes from the fridge and tossing one to him, "I was thinking that we should actually redo Shell Cottage."  
He raised an eyebrow. "Why would we do that?"  
"It's a beautiful place, it would be a shame if it was just left to become a ruin. Besides, it could be fun!"  
He frowned and shrugged. "I suppose so." His face suddenly brightened considerably. "Hey, maybe we could repaint the upstairs bathroom, Phlegm chose a vile mint-green colour that I've always hated. And we could use charms to enlarge it, so there can be a huge bath, like yours." He was becoming more and more enamoured with the idea, and she grinned.  
"I've always hated the colour green." She said simply, and he launched himself towards her, catching her lips in a long, tender kiss.  
When they separated, Bill looked thoughtfully at her. "Maybe we should consider telling everyone, you know. About us, I mean. We're serious about each other, and what's the worst mum can do? She'll yell and shout, but she'll accept it eventually."  
Hermione smiled. "I think you're right, but I still kind of want to keep you to myself." She winked cheekily at him. "How about at George and Angelina's wedding? Then most of the drama will be done with." The wedding was in three and a half months time, and they both agreed to tell them then, after their many months of being together. "They can't accuse us of not being serious if we've been together that long." She reasoned.

They wasted the rest of the day away discussing various things they could do to bring Shell Cottage back to life, and before they knew it, the sun was setting. Deciding that they didn't want to go to any effort with cooking, they put a couple of frozen pizzas in the oven, and ate them with a quickly prepared salad. After their casual meal, Hermione curled up on the sofa with a report she had to read for work, whilst she leisurely drank her gin and tonic. A few minutes later, Bill joined her, and laid out along the sofa, his head in her lap. She idly lowered a hand to stroke his hair, and smiled as he kissed her wrist.

As the moon moved into the sky, however, he turned to lightly nip at her skin, moving his lips slowly along her hips. The report fell to the floor as she groaned in enjoyment, and he sat up to catch her mouth in a demanding kiss, and she met him with equal passion, as they quickly disposed of their clothes. Used to Bill being sweet and caring, she was surprised and excited at his domineering nature tonight, moaning as he almost violently attacked her bare breasts with his rough hands. They slipped down onto the floor, panting heavily, and she decided to try something new, slipping down his body and wrapping her mouth around his swollen manhood. He cried out in pleasure as she tasted him, grabbing her hair tightly, but after only a few moments he pulled her up, a feral look in his yellow eyes. "Did I do it wrong?" She asked, ever insecure, but he only managed a small head movement implying the negative, before catching the skin of her neck between his teeth.  
He flipped her over, so that his chest was flush to her back, and moved his mouth to her ear. "You're mine." He growled lowly, before re-catching her neck and biting her painfully, licking and sucking to sooth the skin.  
"Yes..." She moaned. " _Yes_..." Before she even had a chance to prepare herself, he had thrust himself inside her from behind, making her gasp in shock and pleasure. They had made love a few times since their first, but never like this. This was primal, desperate, _raw_. He pounded into her relentlessly, his fingers digging into her hips hard enough to bruise, pushing deeper and harder inside her than he ever had. She screamed as she felt her first orgasm wash over her, but he didn't stop, pushing her further and further along, until she felt another, even more intense tension build up within her. She grabbed desperately at the floor in front of her, gasping and panting from the heat growing within her, her nails scratching at the old rug, begging and pleading desperately, though she didn't know what for. Finally, when she was so close to the edge that she was nearly crying, Bill flicked her sensitive bud and she collapsed, both of them crying out as they came together.

What felt like moments later, she felt strong arms slipping underneath her sweaty body, and felt herself moving, though she kept her her eyes stubbornly closed. When she felt her mattress beneath her as she was laid down, she lazily opened one eye, and saw orbs of blue staring lovingly at her. "Bill?" She managed to force out, though it sounded incredibly slurred.  
He smiled at her. "We fell asleep, love; it's three in the morning. I thought we'd be more comfortable up here, but I didn't want to wake you." She smiled and grabbed weakly at his arm, fully intending to drag him down beside her, but only managing a light pull. He obviously understood her meaning, though, as he lay down next to her and wrapped his arms around her naked body. "I think I actually managed to shag you senseless. Or speechless at least." He joked, but she didn't even rebuke him, having already fallen back to sleep.


	14. Chapter 13

**If I stick to my general plan, there should be about ten chapters left after this one, but as I've already changed my mind about fifty times in the past month, no promises! Thanks again to everyone who has read, reviewed, favourited and followed; next week I will be mentally sending you all pieces of birthday cake!**

 **Disclaimer: Hey, it happened! I've magically turned into JKR, and am now working on rewriting the deaths of Dobby, Fred, Sirius, Remus... Oh wait, I'm still not JKR? Well damn. Everything HP is still hers!**

 **Chapter 13**

The day after, despite having met up not forty-eight hours ago, they returned to the Burrow for the traditional Sunday meal. Hermione's parents, having returned from settling the last part of their affairs in Australia, were also invited, and talk soon turned to her birthday next month. Ignoring Hermione's insistences that she didn't want a fuss made, her mother and Mrs Weasley were soon engrossed in party details. Seeing that she was fighting a losing battle, she rolled her eyes and asked that it at least be during the day, rather than at night, claiming that she would have work the next day. In truth, she had been given from Wednesday till the next Monday off, but Bill had promised her a surprise Wednesday night.

Ginny was unbearable during this time, casually making comments about how she was sure she'd have a lovely time, winking at her and Bill and smirking. Eventually, as they had finished eating and were moving slowly to the more comfortable sofas in the next room, Hermione had had enough and, gripping Ginny by the arm, marched her upstairs to her old room. "Will you please stop with the winking and giggling! You couldn't be more obvious if you hung a sign over our heads!" She became more and more irritated as her friend merely howled in laughter, and was quite red in the face when Bill came up to check on them.

"Everything all right up here?" He asked questioningly, handing them both glasses of wine. Seeing Hermione's raised eyebrow as Ginny took a sip, he gave her a reassuring smile. "It's Elf-Made, it can't hurt the baby."  
Ginny quickly cut in, after downing half of her glass. "How do you think mum managed to survive through seven pregnancies? There's Elf-Made Mead too, but I can't stand the taste of it. Thanks for this Bill, Harry still doesn't believe me when I say I can drink it."  
He shrugged. "No problem. I was actually meaning to talk to you Gin, about yesterday."  
She grinned. "When I nearly interrupted your happy times together?" Seeing him frown, she sighed. "Relax, Bill, I've already promised I won't tell anyone. I'm happy for you guys, but you should really tell everyone soon, before mum plans your and Ron's wedding, 'Mione."  
Still highly-strung from the full moon, Bill immediately tensed at his sisters words, and she cut across him swiftly. "We're planning to tell everyone at George and Angelina's wedding, when your mum is a bit less..."  
"Insane?" Ginny added helpfully, and the following laughter was enough to distract Bill from his anger. "George and Angie's wedding sounds like a good plan." She added, smiling at the couple before her.  
Bill nodded. "Just remember Gin, if you tell anyone, I'll tell mum about that time I walked in on you in your seventh year, giving Harry a-"  
"Yeah yeah!" She interrupted loudly. "I've already promised!"  
Grinning wickedly, Bill ruffled her hair, before placing a light kiss on Hermione's forehead. "See you downstairs in a bit?" She nodded and he smiled softly, murmuring. "Love you."  
"I love you too." She replied, before watching him leave.

She turned back to her friend, an eyebrow raised in amusement. "So, Ginny, have some fun in your seventh year with Harry, did you?" Taking in her expression of utter shock, though her messed up hair ruined the look somehow, Hermione frowned at her. "What's wrong?"  
"You just said you loved each other." Ginny whispered, making her blush furiously. Expecting her usual gossip-demanding interrogation, she was surprised to hear her give a loud whoop and begin to cackle gleefully. "You know what this means? It means I was right! I, Ginny Weasley, was right, and you, Hermione Granger, were wrong! I told you _months_ ago that you loved each other, I was smarter than you! I swear, this is the best moment of my entire life! Screw winning the War, screw getting married, screw finding out I was pregnant; I knew something that Hermione Granger didn't!"  
Chuckling with mirth, Her eyes twinkled slightly. "You're never going to let me forget this are you?"  
Ginny stood up and hugged her tightly. "Hell no. Come on, lover-girl, let's go back down."

They joined the group in the lounge, where her parents were telling everyone stories of Australia, and, as there were no seats available, Ginny promptly sat on Harry's lap and Hermione relaxed on the floor in front of the fire, conveniently and completely accidentally (of course) next to Bill. It took less than ten seconds for her mother to notice that Ginny was drinking, and even after the Elf-Made explanation, she joined Harry in looking doubtfully at the glass in her hand. After a few humorous minutes of Mr Granger trying to explain cavities to the pure-bloods, the parents excused themselves, leaving the six Weasley children, Harry, Audrey, Angelina and Hermione alone to chat idly.

Half an hour later, Ron slid down to join her and Bill before the warm fire, bumping her shoulder with his playfully. "So, 'Mione, what do you want for your birthday?" The conversation immediately halted and she was bombarded with questions about her desires for gifts, but she simply muttered and hummed awkwardly, insisting yet again that she didn't want any fuss. The whole room fell once again silent, however, when Ron interrupted her stuttering. "I was thinking that maybe we could go out the Saturday after, go to dinner, maybe have a few drinks?"  
The invite hung tensely in the air between them, and out of the corner of her eye she saw Bill begin to rise, a dark look in his eyes, but Ginny saved them quickly, brightly commenting, "That's a great idea! We can all go out, go to that all-you-can-eat Chinese place in London, then floo to Hogsmeade and go to the Three Broomsticks! Celebrate your birthday in style, 'Mione!" She saw Harry frown slightly, and turned, scowling to face him. "I swear, Potter, if you tell me once more that I can't go out for a few drinks, I will hex you into next week."  
He looked suitably ashamed and shut his mouth promptly, though she heard him quietly and happily murmur, "I'm not the only Potter here Gin." The scowl left his wife's face and she leant to give him a light kiss, earning groans from all of her brothers, but leaving a beaming smile on her husband's mouth.

Ron was also predictably disapproving of his sister's plan, but the rest of the room had jumped at the idea, and Hermione was able to sigh in relief. She mouthed a 'thank you' to Ginny before quickly excusing herself, not noticing Ron follow her out of the door. "Hey, 'Mione, look. What I meant before, was if you'd like to go out, just the two of us."  
"Um, well, Ron, I don't know it... I mean, I'm not sure that... Well, what I'm saying is that..."  
Ron quickly reached out and hugged her tightly. "I know it didn't work out so well last time we kissed, but I swear I've grown up since then. I guess I'm still growing up, I've not been the best guy recently, but I'm trying. And I'd like us to try, you know, at a proper relationship." She opened and closed her mouth silently, gaping like a fish, as he smiled sweetly back at her. "Just promise me you'll think about it, 'k?" She nodded mutely and he kissed her cheek lightly, waving goodbye as she walked to the apparition point.

After arriving back home, she immediately poured herself a large glass of firewhiskey, grimacing at the burn in her throat as she threw it back. She refilled her glass and poured another as her floo jumped into action, silently handing it to Bill as he brushed himself off. He was carrying a bag with a change of clothes for the following day, and had clearly stopped off at Shell Cottage before coming here. He too downed the drink he was given, and she refilled it without a word.

It was Bill that broke the awkward silence as they sat gazing into the flames. "So, I guess Ron's pretty serious about going on a date with you." He said lightly, attempting to lighten the heavy tension in the air.  
She sighed and leant back, staring intently at the ceiling. "Guess so."  
"Quick thinking of Ginny to get you out of it."  
"Yep, it was."  
Though she refused to look at him, she could hear the confused and concerned frown in his voice. "'Mione, what's wrong? I saw Ron follow you outside, did he say something to upset you? If he did I'll-"  
"It was nothing." She interrupted. "I'm going for a bath." Grabbing her glass, she plodded upstairs, filling her bath with steaming hot water and thick blue bubbles. Lying back slowly, she sighed heavily, thinking about her red-headed best friend, and the earnest and eager look on his face as he once again asked her out; she didn't know what to do, knowing that inevitably she would have to hurt him, but dreading the moment that the twinkle in his light-blue eyes saved just for her was snuffed out. Perhaps, she thought idly, if she hadn't have fallen for Bill, she would've given their relationship another go, but therein lay the problem. She couldn't even entertain the possibility of being with Ron, when she was so enamoured with his eldest brother.

Said man quietly knocked before slipping inside the steamy bathroom, leaning against the sink and gazing at her piercingly. His eyes, she noticed, were a few shades darker than Ron's, his eyelashes thicker and more of a deep-red than orange, and his hair, she knew, shone different shades of gold, citrus, red and brown in the sunlight, whereas Ron's simply became blindingly bright. Though they were both tall, the younger was gangly whereas the man before her was built and filled out his frame attractively, something she never failed to notice, or enjoy, when around him. When he spoke, she couldn't help but compare his deep timbre to his brother's occasionally whiny tone. She felt waves of guilt crashing over her, as she compared one of her oldest friends to the man she was in love with, but she knew that she could never love anyone like she loved Bill, especially not Ron.

"Going to tell me what's up?" His voice interrupted her musings, and she gave him a small smile. Holding out a bubble covered arm to him, he stepped forward and held her hand gently, settling himself down on the edge of the bath.  
"It doesn't matter." She repeated, softer than before. "Want to join me?" She winked at him, smirking as she indicated towards the soapy water. He looked as though he was about to argue her answer, but instead shrugged and gave up trying to wheedle an answer from his stubborn love, and began to strip off. He settled in behind her, splashing her playfully as he did, and starting a mini water-fight, which he promptly lost when Hermione distracted him by kissing his wet mouth heatedly. Soon the brush of lips became more passionate, and their hands began roaming underneath the magically still-heated water.

Half an hour later, and feeling much more satisfaction than any bath alone could give them, they got out and got into bed, curling up under the covers. "Hey, you never really told me why you've got such heavy security around this place." Bill murmured into her hair.  
She shrugged slightly, inadvertently scratching at her forearm. "There are still people out there who hate people like me, hate Mudbloods."  
He moved her hand from her arm and kissed her knuckles gently, though his voice was harsh. "Don't use that word."  
She smiled sadly. "Whether I use it or not, they'll still hate me and try to kill me all the same. I know they've caught most of Voldemort's supporters, but it's not just them who judge me and others like me; it'll only be a matter of time before another pure-blood maniac comes along, and seeing as I'm one of the most famous Muggle-borns around, I'll be pretty high up on the kill list."  
He stroked her cheek softly, gazing at her with his deep, sincere eyes. "Don't talk like that; I'd never let anyone hurt you. Besides, you're so powerful, you could easily defeat any witch or wizard stupid enough to try and attack you."  
She chuckled lightly. "Perhaps, but I'd rather be able to relax in my home, instead of jumping for my wand at every loud noise. I just feel safer with my wards up, it's probably a leftover thing from the war."  
He gave her a loving kiss. "I can't imagine what it must've been like for you, spending a year on the run looking for Horcruxes, no-one but Harry and my idiot brother to keep you company. I still remember the day you all turned up at Shell Cottage, all of you looking battered and exhausted, holding poor Dobby with you. And the look on your face when you arrived, the pain..." They whispered sad tales for a few more minutes before, exhausted from misery, they fell asleep, holding onto one another as if they could erase the past if they embraced tightly enough.

...

Miles away in London, Ron was sat at the kitchen table in his flat, staring intently at the golden liquid in his glass of single-malt whiskey. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that he should have stopped drinking half a bottle ago, and that he would regret his actions when he was hungover at work tomorrow, but he barely cared. He couldn't seem to get the image of Hermione's disbelieving face out of his head, or the soft feeling of her cheek against his lips as he's kissed her good-night. It seemed like an age ago that they had first kissed and now, years later, he hated himself for not bothering to argue when she suggested to not take it any further; he wanted her much more than he could admit, and lived in the constant hope that if she just gave him a chance, he could make her fall in love with him. But if the look on her face earlier was any indication, he didn't even stand a chance of a single date, and if Ginny kept on sticking her big mouth in things, he doubted they would even spend a single minute alone together. Let alone her living with Bill, and the covert glances between them that he hoped to Merlin existed only in his imagination. But he wouldn't give up, he decided, as he stumbled through to his bedroom. He would win her over, somehow. Hermione Granger would be with him.


	15. Chapter 14

**A/N Hello again everyone! Just a quick thank you to everyone who's taken the time with this, especially you lovely reviewers; I think I can safely speak on behalf of writers everywhere that knowing your work is appreciated is one of the greatest pleasures in life! I'm absolutely thrilled that you all seem to be enjoying it! Kittyinaz and Cat130, hope you continue to like it! arabellagrace, cares 1970 and dixie326, yes, Ron does seem rather unpleasant, doesn't he? But I'm glad you didn't seem too disappointed! And adh78, I'll try to keep updating as often as possible, I'm happy you find it good!**

 **Some painting, some outdoor fun ( ;) ) and Molly Weasley is** ** _not_** **impressed now!**

 **Disclaimer: Sigh. Does it need saying? All hail the great Rowling! (Not me. Cries)**

 **Chapter 14**

The next week went without incident, other than Ginny walking in on Hermione and her brother making love, causing her to scream ('I wanted details, not _visuals_!') and promptly run back into the floo. Ron had taken to walking from the Auror Department to Hermione's office every day during lunch and after work, asking her if she'd like to eat with him. She made some creative excuses every evening, and Anthony showed that he was once again worth his weight in gold as he headed off his old classmate at midday, but he continued in his visits, seemingly undeterred. She didn't mention these attempts to Bill, knowing that he would become concerned and doubtful about the strength of their relationship, and she had no wish to upset him.

Given the youngest Weasley son's behaviour, she was more than grateful for the distraction her evenings brought. As they had agreed, they started redecorating Shell Cottage on Monday, and returned for a few hours every night after dinner. In just a week they had redone the garden, taking special care around Dobby's grave, planting magical colour-changing roses wrapped around a house-elf statue covered with socks. They had also began to redesign his most hated room- the bathroom that was painted in a colour that made him want to vomit- and after choosing to paint it in the Muggle way, he seemed to take immense satisfaction in seeing the mint-green vanish behind the periwinkle coat and navy tiles. Whilst they worked, occasionally flicking each other playfully with their paintbrushes, they discussed many things, from their days, to furniture they thought would work in the house, to their predictions of people's reactions to both the house and their love for one another. They didn't speak of serious things, however, until they were back in the warmth and safety of her home, and even then most of their solemn words were of devotion and their future together.

That weekend, they spent Saturday morning amusing themselves by walking around Muggle furniture stores looking for, as Bill called it, the 'perfect bath and shower set'. After a few hours of bouncing on beds and giggling as they mock-preened in front of a large princess-style mirror, they finally admitted an amused defeat, and bought the simplest set, agreeing to transfigure it later. Sending it magically back to the cottage, they wandered idly around the city they were in, ducking in and out of stores at random, and laughing merrily as they saw a group of primary school children dancing to raise money for charity. One of them was walking around with a bucket, and Hermione happily put a ten pound note in, grinning as the small child politely thanked her with a shy smile, but frowning when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Bill's crestfallen face. He watched the young girl bounce away with a look of intense longing, and though he smiled when she took his hand in hers, he couldn't banish the grief from his eyes. It was mid-afternoon before they headed back to Shell beach, and, neither of them knowing much about plumbing so magically installing everything, it took them only half an hour to have the bathroom finished. As she had promised, Hermione cast one of the undetectable enlargement charms she was so adept at on the room, bathtub and shower, and the shower now resembled a room in itself whilst the tub was closer in size to a swimming pool and sunken into the tiled floor.

They christened the new room almost instantly, Bill once more demonstrating his talented mouth and fingers and she tasting his salty climax for the first time, then almost fell asleep in the large bath, the steamy room and hot water against their exhausted bodies lulling them into a catatonic state. As the setting sun bathed the room in red light, they finally emerged and, agreeing that neither of them felt in the mood to cook, went out for dinner. Tired and still in a state of intense relaxation when they returned home, they barely did anything for the rest of the night other than talk casually about their favourite subjects at school until, earlier than usual, they finished their butterbeers and headed up to bed, falling asleep almost instantly.

On Sunday, they began to tackle the main living room, again beginning with the painting. Due to Fleur taking the majority of the things, they only had to cover a few pictures of the Weasley family and a few sketches of Victoire's Bill had framed, before beginning their work on the chipped walls. Soon however, what had started as as a serious job had turned into an epic paint war, brushes and rollers being wielded like swords, all different colour paints splattering each other's clothing and the walls behind them. Hermione expertly flicked green and purple at Bill until his hair resembled Ron's at the wedding, and in retaliation he dipped one hand in bright red, the other in fluorescent blue, and grabbed her from behind, swinging her around and covering her white shirt in multi-coloured smeared hand-prints. Lowering her to the floor, he gave her a wicked look, somewhat ruined by the rainbow in his dripping hair, before grabbing a thin brush and promptly painting her face with bright orange facial hair, complete with thick sideburns, a twirly moustache and a small goatee. She rolled him back over and giggled as she dotted his face with luminous pink and purple spots and swirls, followed by tribal lines beneath his eyes. After she had finished, they both admired their handiwork, laughing at the ruined jeans and t-shirts they were wearing.

By the time they their mirth had ended, it was early evening, and the sky was beginning to darken. They watched this, smiling, until Hermione suddenly jumped up with a screech. She cast a quick spell and 5:22 appeared in gold letters in front of her. "Bill! We're late for the Burrow! Your mum's going to kill us!" He matched her look of horror, having experienced his mother's rage at those late for dinner in the past, and they swiftly ran to the fireplace, quickly disappearing in a flash of green, before reappearing in the Burrow lounge and being met by Molly's disapproving gaze, which quickly changed to shock. Harry, Ginny, Goerge, Angelina, Audrey and Charlie all burst into raucous laughter, and even Mr Weasley seemed to be biting back a smile, whilst Mrs Weasley, Percy and Ron all looked with horrified faces at them. Bill and Hermione looked at one another in confusion, and immediately realised that in their haste to avoid the matriarch's wrath, they had not even changed or washed the paint from their faces.

"What. In. _Merlin's. Name_. Happened?" Molly bit out, making the majority of the group laugh even louder.  
Bill merely shrugged. "We were painting the main room."  
Ron gave a dark look. "Well that much is obvious." He seemed to be staring at the purple and green in his brother's hair murderously. "And when, exactly, did you decide to paint each other instead of the walls?"  
They both started trying to hold back giggles, and Hermione gave a wounded look. "What's wrong, Ron, don't you think I suit my moustache?" She twirled her finger in the air above her lip, before stroking her paint goatee as if in deep thought.  
"You two look ridiculous." Molly snapped. "Go and clean up, dinner is in five minutes. Bill, you have some old clothes here, and Hermione, I'm sure Ginny has some things you can borrow." They obediently trooped upstairs to the bathroom, and managed to hold in their peals of laughter until they safely had the door locked behind them. They used their wands to blast each other with water, only making them giggle harder as they quickly became soaked.

A sharp knocking interrupted them, and they cautiously opened the door to find Ginny standing there, an eyebrow raised in amusement and a mound of material in her hands. "And you had a go at me for being too obvious!" She slipped inside and re-closed the door behind her, gazing at them both critically. "Well, Bill, you still have green in your hair and 'Mione, you still have a bright red hand-print on your ass, but other than that you're okay." She placed the pile in her arms on the nearby counter and nodded to it. "Fresh clothes. And hurry up, or I swear mum's going to explode." She threw them a cheeky wink before leaving.  
They cleaned the bits of paint they had missed before heading for the clothing. Bill, half-naked and pulling his new jeans on, halted when he noticed that Hermione was frozen in spot, staring at what Ginny had brought for her. "What's up?" He asked, doing the zip and button up on his old, tattered pants and walking to stand beside her.  
"She can't be serious." She breathed in reply.  
Bill, seeing what she held in her hands, immediately bent over in new howls of mirth. "Well," he said, gasping slightly as he exited the room, "I guess you don't have any other option."

This was what led to Hermione walking downstairs in a red halter-neck top that was tight and low cut to the point she was sure her breasts would burst out, and a mini-skirt that meant that she had to spend a few minutes just considering how to sit down and still retain her decency. The men in the room all went bright red as the women whooped (with, of course, the exclusion of Mrs Weasley, who looked in horror between her daughter and Hermione), and while Harry, Percy and Mr Weasley all immediately lowered their faces, Charlie and George started cracking quick-fire jokes. The most satisfying reaction for Hermione though was Bill's, whose mouth had dropped open into a perfect 'o', as he not-so-subtly crossed his legs to hide the quickly growing bulge beneath the denim. Ron had also been struck speechless, but she blatantly ignored the almost hungry look on his face, not wishing to once again feel the awkwardness between them.

"Ginny, is there nothing else that you could lend Hermione?" Molly asked doubtfully.  
"Why should I mum, 'Mione looks great!" She replied cheerfully.  
Arthur, obviously seeing an argument brewing, quickly cut across. "Come on dear, let's have dinner."  
She sat between Bill and Ginny, opposite Ron and George, and they all tucked into the huge portions of casserole Molly served them. Feeling an unusual rush of power at the approving looks she was still being subtly thrown, she smiled and returned Ginny's wink with amusement. Bill still hadn't spoken since she had come downstairs, and feeling somewhat daring in her new get-up, she put on a mock innocent voice and loudly asked him if he was okay.  
As he mumbled in reply, she slid her hand under the table and started to run it slowly up his thigh, making him tense and become simultaneously pale and flushed. He threw her a startled glance, and his eyes darkened in desire when he saw her answering smirk, and she brushed her fingers lightly over the lump now straining at the material of his crotch, making him give a strained, choking sound, which he tried, and failed, to hide behind a cough.  
"Bill, dear, what's wrong?" Mrs Weasley asked in concern.  
"Nothing." He muttered through clenched teeth. "Choked on my butterbeer." Hermione, to the great amusement of Ginny, leant closer in a caring way, rubbing his back with one hand whilst the other continued to tease his arousal away from everyone's eyes. She breathed warmly on his ear as she said apparently soothing words to help clear his throat, and she saw his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed heavily. "Excuse me." He muttered suddenly, standing from the table. "I think I need a breath of fresh air." He deftly turned his hips as he left, hiding his now painful erection from the others, and strode quickly out of the front door.

Ginny tried desperately to hide her giggling behind her forkful of food, but as Hermione sat down and grinned at her, she lost her control. "All right there Gin?" She asked innocently.  
"'Mione..." She muttered through her shaking laughter. "That was brilliant." She whispered, obviously having seen her friend's wandering hand.  
She merely shrugged. "This casserole is delicious Mrs Weasley." She called brightly. Ron, who was oblivious to anything when he had food within his grasp, quickly agreed, and the group finally settled into relaxed conversation. Leaving it ten minutes, Hermione stood up, announcing that she was going to make sure Bill was all right, and headed in the direction she thought she had seen him go.

She had been wandering around for a few minutes and was now nearly freezing from the September wind in her excuse for clothing, when she finally saw him pacing just beyond the tree-line of the orchard. She jogged forwards, eager to get back to the warmth inside, and called out his name as soon as she was in hearing range, making him freeze his movements and stare at her. "Bill!" She said in a quieter voice when she was closer. "You've been out here for over quarter of an hour! You'll freeze!" He continued to just stare at her, as though he had never seen her before, so she moved closer, so she was within touching distance. "Bill? What's wrong?"  
He lunged forward and her back was suddenly slammed against a tree-trunk. "What's wrong indeed?" He growled lowly in her ear, and she gave a shiver that had nothing to do with the cool air. He grabbed the back of neck and turned her face sharply to meet his, before claiming her mouth with his own; he kissed her desperately, their breathing immediately becoming ragged and their hands roaming each other's bodies hotly.

He dragged her knees up to his hips, lifting her right off the ground, so that she was wedged between the tree and him, her shirt and skirt both riding up; the bark scraped painfully against her back and the top of her thighs, though she didn't mind the sensation in the slightest. As she looked at him through heavy-lidded eyes, she thought that he'd never looked more like the stereotypical bad-boy he wore so well; ripped, faded jeans, worn grey t-shirt with a faded image of a wizarding rock band, fang earring shining in the starlight, ponytail becoming raggedly loose, slight stubble grazing her jawline, but more than anything, the hot, dangerous look in his dark eyes. She groaned as he began biting harshly at her neck while he unbuttoned and slightly lowered his jeans and boxers. He moved her underwear to the side and pushed inside her without any warning, violently moving, making her bang against the trunk with every thrust, and she gasped and groaned in pleasure. It took only a few minutes for them to climax together, after which they slid slowly to the cold ground.

He panted his warm breath on her ear. "I needed that." She grinned, and they both stood up, rearranging their clothes. "You damn tease." He nuzzled the top of her hair affectionately as they headed back to the house, concentrating on trying to seem normal. As they reached the light streaming from the kitchen window, they each evaluated their appearances and deemed them acceptable, so walking in, they spun a tall tale about walking around the garden missing each other at each turn, and they all seemed to eat it up, Molly's comment only being that they both looked frozen half to death. They retook their seats and she genuinely thought they had gotten away with it, until Ginny randomly shot out a hand to her hair, and withdrew a large twig, giving Hermione a sly grin.

Whether Ron suspected anything or not, he continued his mission to keep Hermione's attention away from Bill with new vigilance after they returned, throwing a curious look at her and his sister when they laughed at the stick removed from her hair. Hermione noticed this and quickly said that she had tripped over a clump of weeds, to which Ron leant over to grab her hand and ask if she was hurt. She assured him she was fine and gave him a small, uncomfortable smile, and both missed the curious looks the Boy-Who-Lived-Twice threw in their direction. He gazed at his wife with raised eyebrows, only to see her staring at her eldest brother, mouthing something quickly and frowning. His emerald eyes became troubled, knowing that his friends were hiding something from him, and the stubborn resolve he thought he had long ago put to bed rose again with a vengeance. He had noticed the awkwardness between his two best friends recently, and was determined to reunite the pair, no matter what it took.


	16. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: Believe it or not, I still own nothing recognisable.**

 **Chapter 15**

Hermione threw herself into her work the two days before she turned twenty-five, determined to do the work she'd be missing on the three days she had off. Also, though she hadn't told anyone, she had asked to be reassigned to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and was officially ending her current position an hour before work finished on Tuesday. She couldn't wait to tell Anthony that he had been promoted, but wanted to leave him in a comfortable position with regards to paperwork and negotiations, so that he could spend a few weeks settling into his new role. The hour between her resigning and work ending was dedicated to her enjoying a celebratory drink with him and a few of their work colleagues, and she had also discreetly invited his partner of three years to join them. So when it reached four in the afternoon on Tuesday, she was somewhat saddened at leaving the department she had spent years improving, but mostly excited, grinning at the thought of the box of champagne she had ordered.

So it was with great surprise that, after dropping off Hermione's final advisements regarding goblin treatment (though he didn't know they would be her last), Anthony returned to find the majority of the Magical Creatures Department gathered in his boss's office. She and Jared popped bottles of champagne simultaneously, and as he kissed his boyfriend hello, she explained about his promotion; he was overcome with emotion and hugged both Jared and Hermione tightly, swearing that he would do his best to not ruin her good work, and thanking her for all she'd taught him. She smiled and told him sincerely that he was the only one she would allow to take over her work, and that he was more than capable for the job. "You're still the President of S.P.E.W though, so I'll have to get your opinions on some things." He commented jokingly, but she heard the insecurity in his voice, and reassured him that she would always be happy to help out. She spoke with Jared briefly, and he thanked her for all she'd done, but she brushed off his thanks, saying that it was a pleasure to work with his boyfriend.

After over half an hour of socialising and idle chat, the group of Ministry workers started to call for a speech. Hermione looked expectantly towards Anthony, but he looked suddenly sickly at the thought of speaking in front of everyone, and though her own stomach churned, she decided to spare him. "Hi there, everyone. Thank you all for coming to Anthony's promotion celebration!" She started rather lamely, before clearing her throat and reminding herself that she was Hermione Granger. "I've had the pleasure of working closely with Anthony for years now, and he's been absolutely invaluable. I hardly want to let him go, but I know that he's going to be brilliant for this department, as he embraces all the things we should; equality and fair treatment for all creatures, especially those who can't speak for themselves. I could drone on about reasons that Anthony is brilliant for this position on paper, but what really sold him for me was his raw passion for what we do. He's not afraid to yell at the idiots like Umbridge" (the younger audience laughed, whilst the older looked confused) "or to tell the money-grabbing idiots where they can stick their galleons! But more than that," She rested a hand on his shoulder, "he's been a fantastic friend, and no-one deserves this more than he does. He's been simply wonderful, and I think the thing I'll miss most when I leave this Department is being able to see him everyday. Well, that and the fact he knows how I organise things, Merlin help my next assistant!"  
This got a loud laugh; no-one but Anthony could understand her complex and intricate organisation system and someone loudly called, "Not even Merlin can help them!"

Hermione grinned and stepped back into the crowd, accepting congratulations and goodbyes in equal amounts, as although they all worked in the same building, the Departments rarely worked together, and as everyone knew Hermione's work ethic, it was likely they wouldn't see each other for quite a while. However, as she accepted yet another comment about how it had been amazing to work for 'the Hermione Granger', Anthony dragged her to the side, making her promise that they would meet for lunch at least once a week. Flattered, and glad that he wanted to keep in touch, she readily agreed, happy that the close friendship they had developed over the years was not going to end.

"So, should I be jealous?" Came a voice in her ear, and she could hear his smirk. "I don't think you've ever thrown me a party."  
She turned and grinned at Bill. "I quit. Anthony's got my old job."  
He looked at her in shock. "Uh, you quit your job?" She nodded. "Why?"  
"Well, when we were talking the other night about Pure-bloods and Muggleborns, it made me realise that it's stupid that I should still be afraid. So I decided to do something about it." She gave him a small smile.  
"And quitting your job accomplishes that?"  
"Yep." Checking her time with her wand, she put her best no-nonsense voice on and yelled, "Oi! You lot! Haven't you got to work tomorrow?!" They looked at her in concern, before she burst into laughter. "I'm kidding! Technically, I'm unemployed 'till Monday, go crazy guys!" She pulled a few bottles of firewhiskey from her faithful little beaded bag, and conjured enough shot glasses to satisfy everyone. Magically sending the bottle to fill them, she sent them off to every person, raising her own and yelling, "To Anthony!"  
They echoed her call, downing their shots and resuming their cheering. "Are you sure this is such a good idea?" Bill asked quietly. "They really do have to work tomorrow."  
Hermione rolled her eyes. "I laced the drinks." At his astounded look, she quickly explained. "I put a mild sleeping draught and hangover potion in the bottles of firewhiskey. They'll be asleep by ten and wake up tomorrow feeling fine." He still looked unconvinced, and she frowned. "Look, I've asked some people to check in on them to make sure they all get home okay."  
"Who did you ask?"  
"Bloody hell, Bill. If you must know; Jared, Emma from Goblin Liaison, Stephen from Poltergeist Control, Jo from Ghoul Activity and Liv from Werewolf Rights. They are all here, all sober, and all of them agreed to stay until everyone leaves."

He frowned again, but she swiftly grabbed his arm and apparated them to her cottage, before stepping away and going back. Hugging Anthony quickly, she apologised for leaving early and, after smiling at the people she had asked to keep an eye on things, returned to Bill's confused face. "'Mione, what the-"  
"Bill, I've worked forty hours in the last two days and I'm exhausted. I looked after things for Anthony's party, I've asked the people who were looking after things to owl me so I know that everyone got home safe. If I have an owl missing tomorrow I'll freak out, but for now I'm far too tired."  
"'Mione-"  
"Look, I'm sad because I'm leaving, I'm happy because I'm moving on, I'm stressed because I'm nervous, I'm lonely because I won't know anyone and I'm guilty for things I can't even say! Please, do not have the show some more emotional range than your teaspoon of a brother! All I want now is another drink and to cuddle up with you."  
"Guilty?" He questioned, and her thoughts once more settled on his brother as she gave a groan of frustration. He looked rather shell-shocked and, to her despair, left the room. But he came back seconds later with two whiskey glasses, asking if she'd laced all of the bottles, and she triumphantly pulled a full, sealed bottle from her bag and smiled at him.

...

She awoke on the morning of her birthday to a banging head and dry mouth, but gave a weak smile as she saw that Bill had placed the usual hangover-cure potions on her bedside table. She was disappointed to find that he wasn't next to her in bed though, and even more upset when he wasn't downstairs, though he'd left a big breakfast, magically warmed, for her. She went to the Burrow midday meal, and loved the buffet Molly had provided for them, though her father was very alarmed at Arthur's magically enhanced lawnmower, and smiled and blew out the candles on her tooth shaped cake (Mr Weasley's idea), flushing red as they sang her Happy Birthday. By three, Bill still hadn't appeared, and she was starting to lose hope. He had assured her that he had booked off the days that she was temporarily unemployed, yet he wasn't here.

When it was insisted that she open her presents, she did so with a slightly forced smile. Mr and Mrs Weasley had given her a spellbook on household charms, which she accepted with a smile and hug, ignoring the looks that Molly sent between her and Ron. Charlie had found her a fascinating new report on the possible new uses of dragon's blood, and had also booked her an appointment at his reserve in Wales to study them in person. Percy and Audrey (she suspected, well, knew it was mostly- all- Audrey's influence) gave her a book entitled 'Getting in Touch With Your Inner Party Animal'. George and Angelina gave her a mixture of new Wheezes merchandise, as well as some formulas for some of their original products, which she poured over eagerly. The other friends she had invited got her a wide range of things, from Anthony's charmed day planner to Luna's exotic earrings ("They'll keep the nargles away!"). Ron had bought her some beautiful navy dress robes as well as the Advanced Arithmancy book she had wanted for a while and, forgetting herself, she hugged him, thanking him over and over, repeating what a great friend (with a distinct emphasis on friend) he was.

Before Ron could speak, Harry cut in. Looking apologetically at Ron, he handed a present to Hermione, whispering, "It's for you, open it in private. You'll understand." And he walked away, a smile on his face.  
Even as she contemplated what he meant, Ginny appeared and put her present on top of her husband's. "This isn't for you." She winked. "This is for Bill."  
She was rather terrified as she slightly opened the wrapping, and upon seeing the see-through lace and g-string, immediately closed it back up, blushing like never before.  
"Mrs Weasley-"  
"Please call me Molly!"  
"Okay, Molly, I'm really grateful for this, but I think I should head home now. I can't thank you enough for this party though.".  
Having seen George, Audrey, and Ginny spike Mrs Weasley's drinks through the day somewhat explained Molly throwing herself at Hermione, weeping. "You're my daughter, you know? I mean it, you are. Never doubt you're my daughter." She carried on with random comments and questions for a while.  
Hermione, experienced in drunken Weasleys, knew just what to say as she helped her to her room. "I know I'm your daughter. Yes, I love you too. No, none of us hate your sweaters. My parents feel very welcome here. I'm very grateful." When she began ranting about Ron, Hermione swiftly excused herself, tucking the older woman into her bed and instructing her to sleep the alcohol off, and when Mrs Weasley insisted that she wasn't drunk, she merely chuckled in reply and bid her goodnight. Hurrying back downstairs she said goodbye to everyone, thanking them once more for everything and gathered her presents up before apparating home.

She smiled at the mound of gifts, cautiously holding the earrings from Luna up and sniffing the strange green objects dangling from them experimentally. Her gaze fell onto the indecent present from Ginny, still hidden from sight in its covering before noticing the still-wrapped one from Harry beneath it. She picked it up curiously and, tearing open the paper, was surprised but delighted to find a pensieve within, with a small note resting on top in his scrawly writing, saying 'For when that brilliant head of yours gets too full. Love, Harry.' She was touched at his thoughtfulness, deciding that she would most definitely buy him a drink when they went out that Saturday, and very grateful that he'd told her to open it in privacy; knowing Ron and some of the other Weasleys, she would've been badgered for weeks with their demands to look inside and see her innermost private thoughts. She flicked her wand and sent the shallow basin to sit on a nearby dresser, before settling down with her new arithmancy book, idly wondering where on earth Bill was.

One hour and four chapters later, Bill finally appeared, kissing her swiftly and wishing her happy birthday before he admired her pile of gifts, though he looked apprehensively at the earrings and very curious when she banished Ginny's present before he could reach it. She casually asked where he'd been and he shrugged, muttering about 'doing this and that', making her narrow her eyes in suspicion. "By the way," she called loudly as he went to grab a diet coke from the fridge, "I should warn you that your mum was on the warpath for you not being at lunch. I'd expect a yelling from her next time she sees you."  
He groaned slightly, flopping down next to her on the sofa. "Brilliant. You'd think that a thirty-three year old man wouldn't still be terrified of his mother, but..."  
She smirked. "You'll be thirty-four next month, then it'll really be sad."  
He rolled his eyes at her. "Don't make me tickle you." He warned, before jumping back up. "Come on, get up."  
He held his hand out and she frowned at him. "Where are we going?"  
"It's a surprise. Come on."

She obliged and he immediately apparated them away with a pop, reappearing in the middle of a forest. She looked around in confusion as he led her forward, ignoring her constant questioning but wearing a small, secret smile. After ten minutes of walking, she saw lights flickering through the line of thick trees, and Bill increased his pace, now grinning openly. Dragging her forward, they emerged into a small clearing, where a blanket was laid out on the forest floor with a small basket, the whole scene lit softly by floating candles. Her mouth dropped open as she gazed at him in shock, but he merely kissed her cheek and whispered, "Happy Birthday love."

He sat her down and opened the wicker basket, revealing two magically heated plates of Italian-stuffed chicken, a warm chorizo salad, a crispy baguette and a couple of bottles of red wine; she couldn't seem to stop grinning as he handed her a glass and a plate, and they quickly digging into the delicious meal, chatting lightly as they ate. When they had both eaten their fill, they lay back together, looking at the stars through a gap in the canopy of leaves above them, holding hands and murmuring quietly in the semi-darkness.

Suddenly, and looking apprehensive, he sat up and reached inside his worn jacket, pulling a small box from the inside pocket. "Um, so this is your actually present." He stuttered. "But it's, er, not what you think." She opened the box to find a beautiful ring, white gold with a red ruby rose intricately entwined into the band. Her heartbeat quickened as she looked at him, stunned, but relaxed at his next words. "It's not a 'ring' ring." he explained quickly, "Well, I mean, obviously it's a ring, but I'm not proposing or anything." He smiled shyly at her. "It's a promise more than anything else, that when this who fiasco with Phlegm is over, I'll get you a proper engagement ring. We'll get married, have a family, and live together properly. I'll make you happy 'Mione."  
She felt her eyes prick with moisture as he slid the ring on her third finger and kissed her gently. "I already am happy Bill. I love you." She pressed her lips against his in a soft but passionate way, and as they tenderly made love, the rose twinkled like fire in the candle-light.


	17. Chapter 16

**A/N Hello again! Sorry for the delay but my family suddenly whisked me away as a surprise for my birthday to go to the HP tour! So, to be honest, I can't actually be that sorry, hehe. Also, because it was my b-day, I actually got to open the real doors they used to the Great Hall, major fan-girl moment! It's absolutely brilliant, so if any of you get the opportunity to go, I would definitely recommend it. I'm going to stop talking about it now (to you guys at least, everyone else is going to be bored stiff with me) and get on with my usual thank yous!**

 **To my usual favourite lovely people; dixie326, cares 1970, arabellagrace and Cat130, thank you once again for reviewing! And don't worry, Harry gets a telling off later... To mystrye, I'm very glad you're liking it! And Chrisstars1, I'm really hoping you'll like how the sub-plot works out in the end; after reading your comment I re-read what I'd written so far and agree that it does seem like Bill has abandoned Victoire a bit, so I'm hoping this chapter may redeem him a bit and show that he's still hoping. For everyone else who's taken the time with this, many thanks!**

 **Disclaimer: Still not mine, but I have been in Diagon Alley so can't bring myself to be too upset about that!**

 **Chapter 16**

Over the next few days, Bill and Hermione managed to finish the main room and begin redecorating one of the spare bedrooms of Shell Cottage, spending most of their time there, though they had gone out on Saturday as planned, and had had the pleasure of meeting Charlie's 'good friend' from work, Toni. They had liked her immediately, her soft Welsh accent contrasting dramatically with her bright violet hair and skull nose piercing. She had settled into their little group perfectly, chatting happily with Ginny and asking when she was due, to which she sullenly replied just over fourteen weeks, before bringing all the conversations to a halt when she asked Angelina the same question. She gaped at her, whilst Toni quickly apologised for blowing her secret, before quietly muttering, "I'm only eight weeks gone. How could you tell?" She shrugged in reply as everyone congratulated Angie and George, and Hermione mentally gave herself a mental high-five for guessing at her friend's pregnancy.  
"We don't want to tell anyone until after the wedding though, we're going to use glamours." George had added quickly, and they all agreed to keep their silence.  
"Oh yeah, Charlie told me that your mum was a bit, um, unimpressed with you two." Toni said, nodding to Ginny and Harry. They spent the next few minutes regaling her with stories of Mrs Weasley's past scoldings, before, shuddering, they mentioned her fury after having her drink spiked on Wednesday. "I bet that was worth seeing." She commented, laughing. "By the way, happy belated birthday Hermione."  
"Thanks." She smiled at the woman, before announcing that she was going to get the next round in, and upon returning, Ginny quickly grabbed her hand and admired her new ring.  
"That's gorgeous, where did you get it?" She had made some random story up involving an old Muggle school friend, and they seemed to believe her.

She hadn't taken the ring off since Wednesday, and often found herself gazing smilingly at it, making Bill tease her about how she loved it more than him. He was currently rubbing her shoulders reassuringly as she stared at the contents of her wardrobe, gnawing her lower lip nervously. Not usually one for primping or caring about her work clothes, today she was so anxious about starting at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement that she had spent nearly half an hour flicking through her collection, trying to find the perfect outfit. "'Mione, I told you, it doesn't matter what you wear, you're going to be brilliant." Bill sighed as she held out another top for his examination.  
She sat down next to him on her bed and ran her fingers through her hair. "I know the clothes don't matter, I'm just so nervous. I want to look my best."  
He smiled and kissed her lightly, before getting up to make breakfast for them. Pausing at the door, he lightly said, "Go for the light blue top and the grey skirt."  
She gave him a grateful grin and quickly put on the suggested outfit, twisting her hair into a high bun on top of her head and brushing some make up on her face.

She entered her kitchen to the smell of fresh coffee and frying bacon. Bill handed her a mug and she sipped her drink happily, leaning against the counter next to the stove. "You, William Weasley, are the best." She sighed happily.  
He smirked across at her. "I'll remind you you said that next time I interrupt your shower." She giggled slightly, a very unHermione thing to do that was becoming increasingly frequent, and began scrambling some eggs next to him. Moments later they were sat at the table eating, when Bill suddenly said, "You look beautiful, by the way."  
She smiled. "You don't look so bad yourself." She commented, taking in his unusually professional attire.  
He frowned and pulled at the collar of his grey business shirt. "I hate having to wear these things." He grumbled. "I've got an appointment with some guys from Eygpt about who has rights to a new tomb they've found and I'm supposed to look 'sophisticated'." She laughed at the disgust in his voice; as he was usually dressed for work in jeans and t-shirts or sweaters, he did look very uncomfortable in his indigo tie and black slacks.  
"Well you look very handsome." She reassured him, straightening the knot in his tie slightly, feeling very pleasantly domestic as she did so.

"So, um," She started nervously, not wanting to ruin the lightness of the morning, "with my new job, I'll probably have a bit more influence around the ministry." He raised an eyebrow questioningly. "I was thinking that I could speak to Kingsley about doing more to find Victoire." She rushed out, wincing as his expression darkened.  
He sighed heavily and collapsed back into his seat. "Hermione," His voice was as dark as his eyes, "there's nothing more that Kingsley can do, you know that."  
"But-"  
"He's got missing person alerts on her and Phlegm, the department of transportation has been told to let me know immediately if they floo or use a portkey, and he's tried everything with the French ministry from bribing to threats. _Fucking French_." He swore suddenly, hissing under his breath. "I should never have let Fleur give her dual citizenship when she was born, then she wouldn't have been able to bloody leave."  
She rested a hand over his on the table. "At least Madame and Monsieur Delacour are keeping an eye out over there for you." He gave a weak smile, and she hugged him tightly. "I'll still try and see if there's anything else I can do to bring her back."  
"Thank you." He murmured. Finishing their food and sending the plates and mugs to wash themselves, they headed to the fireplace and, saying goodbye and wishing each other a good day, headed off to their respective workplaces.

Hermione was early as usual and the atrium was nearly deserted, so she luckily had a lift to herself, and no-one could see how much she was shaking as she pressed the button for level two. She strode, feigning confidence, past the Auror and Misuse of Muggle Artifacts departments, saying brief but cheerful hellos to any other early-birds she recognised, and towards the general area near the back of the floor. Pushing open the gilded double doors that led to, arguably, the most coveted offices in the Ministry, she was immediately accosted by a short, chubby, balding man shouting at her.

"Granger!" He yelled at her. "I want to be clear about something from the start; I don't care who you are, what you've done or how many times your face has been in the Daily Prophet. Here, I'm the boss, and I won't take any crap from anyone. So, Little Miss War Hero, be warned; if you don't work your damn arse off I won't be afraid to fire you. Now scram!"  
She jumped slightly at his swift dismissal and, nodding mutely, watched him waddle away as fast as his stumpy legs would take him. "So, I see you've met the lovely Bob?" Came another voice from behind her, and once more she flinched. Turning apprehensively, she breathed a sigh of relief when she saw a grinning, middle-aged woman looking with amusement at her. She had wild black hair that sprung from her head in tight curls, hazel eyes that twinkled friendlily, and a warm smile that put Hermione at ease. "Don't worry about him, he's horrible to everyone. He's just extra pissed off at you 'cause he spent years to get to management here, and you got in straight away."  
She frowned uneasily. "I applied for an entry-level position but Minister Shacklebolt thought that-"  
"Oh, no!" The other woman interrupted. "Don't think we're all like that; we've heard all of the great work you've done on level four, you've definitely earned your position here. I'm Joannna by the way. Jo Kelly, I share your new office. That delightful man was Bob Archer, Head of Department and Grade One A-hole. The only other person in our area is Liz Davies, Deputy Head; she's really nice, total opposite to dearest Bobby there. You won't see her for a while though, she's just had her second baby so she's taking a couple of months off." As she was talking she began to lead her to their office. "Of course, the Heads of the separate departments from here drop in, as well as a few from other floors. You'll learn everyone's names soon enough."

Hermione nodded; she had expected to have to meet many new people in her job. The managerial area of floor two was considered the head of the whole Ministry, and every department, excluding the Department of Mysteries, answered to them; every new law, regulation or serious decision went through them before going to the Minister, and Kingsley often respected their decisions. They were, she supposed, the equivalent of the Muggle Prime Ministers Cabinet, but then she got an amusing yet disturbing mental image of Shacklebolt dressed as Queen Elizabeth II or Margaret Thatcher, and concentrated her wondering mind on evaluating her new office. It was smaller than her last one, and much more cramped considering the two desks and multiple filing cabinets, but still pleasant, with a large window and some pretty indoor plants littering the room.

She looked in confusion at her empty desk, and Jo smiled shyly. "I've been putting in some extra hours so you wouldn't be swamped when you arrived."  
She gave a grateful smile. "Thanks. Oh, and I'm Hermione, 'Mione Granger." Though she had no doubt that the whole wizarding world knew her name, she had been brought up with proper manners, and introducing herself was key to decent social etiquette.  
Her new partner, rather than giving the usual reply of 'I know!', simply walked forward and shook her hand in a friendly way. "Nice to meet you Hermione."

"So," She began, sitting in her new chair and grinning at Jo, "where do I start?"  
Her newly found friend blinked. "Uh, well, there's a few documents we need to run through about a company that wants to do Magical Carpet rides for fun in Bournemouth, but I can sort that out if you want to settle in."  
Hermione shrugged. "I don't mind, I prefer working. It's just a case of limiting areas and making sure every ride is registered with us, right?" Jo beamed at her and nodded, and they immediately started working on their separate things. Hours later they broke for lunch and spent their half hour discussing the amusing possibility of a magical Theme Park (complete with everlasting-fire log flumes and Gringott-cart style roller-coasters) before once more turning to their work. Hermione found Jo to be a fantastic worker, eager yet still willing to engage in idle conversation from time to time, and one of the few people who could keep up with her swift pace.

Their quickly found routine was broken, however, by three men banging through their office door. "'Mione!" They called simultaneously, all running to hug her.  
She grinned at them, her smile growing all the wider when she saw Jo wasn't irritated by the interruption. "Guys, what are you doing here?!" She cried in surprised joy.  
"We had to come see you on your first day!" Harry smiled.  
"Yup, had to see if you'd met Archer yet, he's, um, a bit difficult to work with." Neville added, his face scrunching up uncomfortably, reminding her to no end of his expression when talking about the late Professor Snape.  
"And of course, we had to give you these!" Ron said, producing a large bouquet of flowers (Harry's idea) and beaming at her.  
"Oh, thank you so much!" She exclaimed, sniffing the tulips happily. "I can't believe we're all working on the same floor!"  
"It's just like the D.A again!" Neville looked thrilled.  
"Don't expect any special treatment though." Hermione winked at them.  
Harry mock-gaped. "You mean you won't help us with our homework?!"  
They all laughed heartily, before Hermione once again remembered her manners. "Oh, guys, this is Joanna Kelly, my new partner! Jo, this is Neville Longbottom, Ron Weasley and I'm sure you know Harry."  
Harry, now head of the Auror Department, smiled politely at her. "Nice to see you again Jo, how's Liz's newborn doing?"  
"Oh he's gorgeous, she's called him Michael. She doubts she'll be back for a while, between Nick having the terrible-twos and Michael, she needs to be at home. Though speaking of, how's Ginny doing?"  
Harry visibly shuddered, and he muttered something that sounded like, "Mood swings..."

They wheedled away a few minutes chatting together, before they heard the sound of Mr Archer's shoes clacking against the floor and scurried back to work. Ron and Harry quickly disappeared, but Neville hung back for a few moments, talking loudly about paperwork until he had passed. "Listen, 'Mione," he murmured when the coast was clear, "could we maybe meet for a quick drink after work? I need to ask you about something."  
She nodded, confused, and he gave her a brief, grateful smile before leaving. In the next five hours, she and Jo had sorted the Magical Carpet application, begun drafting a new law regarding foreigners transport (especially regarding family pets, including dragons) in Britain, and received a mound of paperwork about next year's Triwizard Tournament, held at Durmstrang. She quickly remembered to owl Bill, saying she'd be late home, before meeting Neville in the Atrium.

They headed to the Leaky Cauldron, and they both ordered a pint of whatever Tom had on tap, and after nodding that Elf-made Mead was okay, they settled down at a table in the back. Hermione regarded Neville's distraught face with concern. "So, I've been seeing someone." He started, sounding incredibly nervous.  
"That's great Neville! Do I know them?"  
He nodded slightly. "It's Hannah. Hannah Abbott, the Hufflepuff from our year, remember her? She's working at the Three Broomsticks now, Madam Rosmerta's already made her head manager, and she might even own it soon."  
"That's fantastic, you must be so happy for her!" She exclaimed cheerfully, and though he nodded again, the unhappy look on his face was said differently.  
"Yeah, I'm really proud of her." He mumbled. "But, 'Mione, the thing is..." He trailed off and downed half of his drink, before finding his Gryffindor courage, steeling his nerves and saying; "I don't want to be an Auror anymore."  
He looked at her as though expecting her fury, but she merely smiled. "That's fine, Neville, no-one would-"  
"The thing is," he interrupted, obviously not hearing her acceptance, "I want to be closer to Hannah, and I've just had enough of the fighting, and-" He froze. "Wait, what?"  
"I said it's fine! We've all fought more than enough, and if you want to be closer to Hannah, no-one would blame you! We won the war so that we could live in a free world, and if being an Auror doesn't make you happy anymore, then find something that will!"

Neville gave her a small smile. "I think I might love Hannah, you know. It's only been a few months but she's just so amazing, and supportive- and, erm, I've actually had another job offer." At Hermione's inquisitive eyebrow, he continued. "Headmistress McGonagall got in contact with me; apparently Professor Sprout is retiring soon, and she wants me to teach Herbology."  
"Neville!" She cried happily. "That would be so perfect for you, and you'd be amazing as a teacher!"  
He shrugged. "I don't know. I mean I'm not smart, and I'm not good at confronting people, and-"  
"Neville. In our first year you tried to stop Harry, Ron and I from losing more house points, and right from then 'till your seventh year you've been fighting for what's right. So you can confront people when it matters. Heck, you stood up to bloody Voldemort! And as for not being smart; if Minerva McGonagall personally contacts you asking you to be a professor, you're damned brilliant."  
"I'm amazed she didn't ask you." He mumbled awkwardly.  
Discreetly hiding the fact that she had been asked to teach whatever subject she liked by her former Professor, excluding Divination of course, she smiled warmly at him. "You have a natural talent for Herbology, you always have, and I can't think of anyone better for the job. Obviously the Headmistress can't either!"  
He flushed crimson. "So you don't think people will judge me for leaving the Ministry?"  
She openly laughed. "Of course not; what matters now is the next generation, and especially them being taught in the right way, and everyone knows that you'll do that."  
They finished their drinks, and Neville hugged her tightly. "Thank you so much, 'Mione. You'll have to stop by Hogsmeade soon, I know Hannah would love to see you." She assured him that she would visit as soon as she could, before they said goodbye and flooed away.

As she stepped out of her fireplace, she was overcome with a wave of exhaustion, and collapsed on her sofa. "'Mione?" Bill called from upstairs, hearing her groan of relaxation.  
"Hiya." She yelled back, "I got take-away."  
He came downstairs, stopping off in the kitchen to grab some plates, before kissing her head and putting their food out. Looking at her tired face, he frowned, and promptly returned to the next room, coming back with a vodka and diet coke, which she accepted with a grin. "So, your first day didn't go too well?" He asked around a mouthful of fish.  
She shrugged, dipping a chip in her curry sauce. "My boss is insane, my co-worker is awesome, Ron got me flowers, Neville plans on quitting, and they want to restart the Triwizard Tournament again. So good bits and bad bits."  
Bill blinked. "Ron got you flowers?"  
She merely sighed.


	18. Chapter 17

**A/N Hello! We're coming into the home stretch now, I think. I'm guessing about five more chapters after this one, so I hope you all continue to enjoy, review and generally be awesome!**

 **This chapter; Ron needs to get a clue, an old friend reappears, and ice-cream with mashed potatoes. Also, C** **ymru am byth!**

 **Disclaimer; As ever, everything recognisable belongs to the great JKR.**

 **Chapter 17**

Hermione threw herself with new vigour into her work and finding Victoire, and the week passed smoothly, other than Harry inviting her for a drink with himself and Ron after work, which she gladly accepted, looking forward to catching up with her friends and thinking that Harry could be a mediator of sorts to ensure that Ron stopped his incessant nagging. However, no sooner had they sat down in the Leaky Cauldron, the ebony haired man had jumped up and, with a twinkle in his eye, apologised, having 'forgotten' that he had promised Ginny he would cook. She immediately rose to follow him, but Ron's hand clamped down on hers as he smiled at her innocently, making her glare daggers in the back of The-Boy-Who-Interfered as he left.

They sat in awkward silence for a while, Hermione gently tugging at her hand to encourage the red-head to release it, and he either feigning ignorance or plain ignoring her. "Ron," She said eventually, "can you let go of my hand please?"  
"Why?" He asked, but before she could answer, he ploughed on. "So, I was thinking, we could go out on a date this weekend, yeah? How about Saturday?"  
She sighed and pulled at her hand once more, but he was unrelenting. "Ron, my feelings since the battle haven't changed; I still think we're better off as friends." Stuff what she had said to Molly, there was no way she was raising Ron's hopes.  
It was as if he hadn't heard her. "I'll meet you here at seven." He stated, before launching into a rant about the one subject he seemed to never exhaust: Quidditch. She sighed at his blatant lack of care, deciding that she would attempt to _again_ tell him that she wasn't interested before Saturday, before smiling at the thought that she would at least have her day at the dragon reserve before they met. "-and I don't even know why the Cannons signed him, I mean we'd be much better with-"  
"Ron," She interrupted, not caring if she seemed rude, "I have to get back, I have a tonne of paperwork to do."  
He seemed disappointed, but perked up almost instantly. "You can show me your new house!"  
She gritted her teeth and repressed an eye-roll. "I'm staying at Shell Cottage, you know that."  
He frowned but acquiesced, walking her out of the dingy pub and into the sunset. "I'll see you on Saturday then, if not sooner!" He called happily, and moved closer to her face, still holding her hand and making escape impossible. As his mouth moved closer to hers, she wanted to scream; he was actually going to _kiss_ her, on the _lips_. Not knowing what else to do, she turned her cheek to the side, feeling his mouth settle there instead, before patting his hand awkwardly, yanking her own from his, and disapparating.

...

Saturday dawned gloomy and grey, matching her mood, until she felt Bill's lips on her neck and he cheered her up to no end, before they dressed to meet Charlie. He had given her two day passes, probably assuming that she would bring Harry, Ginny or Ron (who had been dropping repeated hints whenever he visited her office, which was unnervingly frequently), so looked understandably shocked when she stepped through the floo with none other than his favourite brother. "Bore da," he called cheerfully, "croeso y Warchodfa Ddraig Cymru!" Hermione giggled at his attempt at Welsh, whilst Bill simply looked confused, making Charlie's grin grow wider. "That, dear brother, means good morning, and welcome to the Welsh Dragon Reserve." He gave an exaggerated bow to Hermione, before straightening and beaming at them. "I'll be your tour guide today, and my name is Charlie Weasley, aka the better looking, more awesome, infinately funnier-"

"Most big-headed, irritating and talkative Weasley around." Toni cut in with a smirk as Bill socked his brother in the arm, before grabbing him into what Hermione called a 'man-hug', with lots of back slapping and masculine grunting. Toni rolled her eyes before moving to embrace her, smiling and saying, "It's good to see you, 'Mione. I'll be joining you guys today, to keep this one under control." She shoved Charlie slightly and in an over-dramatic motion he fell to the floor, clutching his arm in mock-anguish, and Hermione couldn't fail to notice the look of amused affection passing between the two.

They immediately headed out into the scorching sunlight ("Magically done, you know, to keep the dragons happier") and Charlie led them over to the first pen, filled with the native Welsh Greens ("People say they caused the Great Fire of London, but I say that's nonsense") and they watched two of them seeming to do a dance in the air for a few moments ("That's their mating dance, it's about breeding season for them now").  
"See what I mean about most talkative?" Toni teased with a raised eyebrow, interrupting Charlie's constant stream of facts and making his ears turn pink.  
Hermione shook her head emphatically. "Oh no, I find it all fascinating! You can tell you really love them." She smiled sweetly at the second eldest child and his ears went from pink to crimson as he nodded his head.  
"I've always had a soft spot for dragons, they're so misunderstood."  
She laughed openly at that. "You sound just like Hagrid." Charlie and Toni seemed to share a secret look, reminding her of George and the late Fred's bewildering ability to seemingly read one another's minds, before she nodded and he, smiling, grabbed Hermione's hand and dragged her away, the other two following close behind. "What are you doing?!" She demanded as she tried to keep up without her arm being pulled out of it's socket. They passed many enclosures that she desperately wanted to look into, but he didn't stop pulling her along in silence, though his grin grew wider and wider with every passing second.

"Thought you might want to see an old friend." He said eventually, skidding to a stop in front of a large, intimidating holding area and causing Bill to run straight into her, nearly knocking her over. After they'd righted themselves, Charlie unwarded a door she'd previously not seen and they stepped through to a small viewing area, through which they could see only a dark, rocky landscape that closely resembled a mountainside.  
"Er, Charlie, what-" Her question was cut off as one of the rocks suddenly unfurled itself to reveal a dragon, almost double the size of the Welsh Greens and looking a little like the Hungarian Horntail Harry had fought, though brown rather than black.  
Her 'tour guide' grinned at her knowingly, and though she was impressed by the sheer enormity of the beast, she couldn't figure out what he meant by old friend, unless... "Norberta." Charlie said proudly, and she gasped in shock, remembering the small egg she had seen years ago. "We were going to keep her in Romania, but she's somewhat particular about who she gets on with, and apparently she gave them hell when I left."  
"That's what he says," Toni joked as she smirked at him, "but we all think he just couldn't bear to be parted from her."  
His eyes took on a misty look as he gazed at the giant creature before them. "I raised her from a baby after you guys gave her to us. She's also the reason Toni and I properly met." He bumped shoulders with the woman and, as if on cue, another dragon unfolded itself and the pair flew into the air, spiralling around one another and nipping at each other's tails.  
Toni nodded at the second, slightly smaller one. "That's Kalil, Norberta's mate. Not all dragons mate for life but Ridgebacks do, and they're notoriously picky about who they choose."  
"We'd both been trying for ages to find someone for them, and then we happened to run into each one day."  
"The rest, as they say, is history."

Hermione smiled at the couples, both human and dragon, before noticing that there was a pattern to their light biting of each other, why it almost looked like- "They're playing." She suddenly stated, feeling her mouth spread into a wide grin. "They're playing tag!"  
Both dragon tamers laughed at her obvious amazement and happiness, overjoyed to find someone who seemed as enthused by the dragons as they were. "Sometimes we ride them while they play it," Toni said, "it's one of the most thrilling experiences ever."  
Her grin dropped and she paled. "You ride _them_?!" She asked incredulously.  
They both shook their heads. "Oh Merlin no, that would be a suicide mission. We ride the tamer ones, like the Welsh Greens, and only when they're in a very good mood. Otherwise you get a lovely burst of fire blown at you."  
Charlie said the last part almost casually, and for the first time in a few minutes, Bill cut in. "I always knew you were mental little brother."  
He replied with a snort. "Coming from the ex-curse breaker who works with goblins?"  
"At least I'm the only one here who hasn't ridden on something large enough to crush our house and powerful enough to burn down London." Bill teased.  
"I told you it wasn't them!"  
"You've ridden a dragon? When?"  
Charlie and Toni said at the same time, making Bill shake his head in amusement and Hermione flush as red as the flames the Ridgebacks were now playfully throwing at one another. "A few years ago, we kind of had to break out of Gringotts and it seemed the easiest way."  
"Destroying half the bank in the process, may I add." Bill added wryly, but Toni merely looked blank.  
"Break out of Gringotts, not in?"  
She shrugged. "Breaking in was comparatively easy."  
"Hold on a second," Bill interjected suddenly, gazing at her curiosity. "When on earth did you send my brother a dragon?

Promising to tell him the story later, they slowly stepped back out of the room and wandered around the other pens, Charlie pointing out different breeds here and there and spouting random facts, whilst Bill and Hermione looked on with interest and Toni merely stared at Hermione in awe. "Those over there are Ukrainian Ironbellys, the biggest, and heaviest breed of dragon we know about."  
"Hey, that's the type we flew on!" She called in excitement, recognising the steel grey colour and huge size, though the ones in the reserve looked remarkably better cared for than the one from Gringotts.  
Toni looked about ready to faint at this news, and even Charlie looked shocked. "You flew an Ironbelly?" He asked slowly, and she nodded. "And you're not dead?" She shook her head. "You didn't even get hurt?" Another head shake, and he puffed out a breath in awe. "That's incredible. What was it like?"  
Shrugging her shoulders and trying to ignore the fact that they looked like they were about to pounce on her, she attempted a casual tone. "Cold, after a while. We must've flown for a couple of hours, at least. It was just after we left Shell Cottage during the War."

She nodded at Bill and he raised an eyebrow. "Yes, I remember. You might have seen it in the Prophet; Crazed Vandals Ignore Perfectly Good Advice, Make A Pact With A Goblin, And Destroy Half A Bank With A Dragon." She swatted his arm playfully, but Charlie and Toni seemed to have not noticed his sarcastic statement.  
"A couple of hours?" She breathed.  
Hermione was squirming, rather uncomfortable now. "Well, it wasn't in the best condition, poor thing. They have these awful things called Clangers, and they train the dragons to expect pain when they hear them, not to mention it was half blind when we escaped on it. Gringotts really is awful to dragons, absolutely barbaric. Or was, at least, until I got a law passed about their treatment."  
This seemed to snap the tamers out of their trance, and Toni grinned at her. "So you'd be the reason for the sudden influx of hurt dragons then?" She nodded, unsure about the woman's reaction to the news, but her smile only grew broader as she hugged her. "You should've seen the state some of them were in, it was horrible! I'm even more upset you've changed departments now. Thank you though, a lot of them would have probably died if we hadn't have got them help." Hermione shrugged as if to say 'not a problem', but noticed Charlie's intense gaze on her and remained silent. He murmured something to Toni and she jumped up as if recieving an electric shock, muttering, "Of course, why didn't I think of that?"

Sharing a confused look, Bill and Hermione followed the pair around to the back of the enclosure, where a small area was sealed off from the rest, and a lone dragon could be seen resting; multiple scars could be seen poking through scales that seemed considerably less healthy than its fellow's next door, and as it raised its head to gaze at them, she saw that its eyes were milky white. "Oh." She sighed, caught between relief and sadness. "You found it."  
"Five years ago." Charlie murmured. "We've done what we can, but we're afraid she'll never truly be healthy again."  
"She?"  
He gave a small, sad smile before opening the door to the pen and strolling confidently up to the dragon that had saved them from Gringotts all those years ago. "Meet Halle. You can come in, if you'd like, she's probably the friendliest, well the least violent, dragon I've ever met."  
Hermione felt Bill beside her, his desire to keep her out of harms way, but she was already tentatively walking up to the beast that had saved her life, so he simply followed behind them cautiously. "Hello, Halle." She said, holding out a hand and placing it gently on the animals shoulder; whether it be from age, exhaustion or simply weakness, she didn't respond, other than to give a slow blink of her eyes. "Thank you for everything, I'm glad you were found." She felt tears prick at her eyes at seeing such a great creature reduced to this, but wiped them away with an impatient sniff, before following Charlie out of the enclosure and feeling herself enveloped comfortingly in Bill's arms.

They split up a while after that; Bill and Charlie to continue their argument about which profession was the more reckless, and Toni and Hermione to visit the incubator, where they kept the eggs and young dragons rejected by their mothers. "So," Toni started in a mischevious tone as her friend cooed over a baby Hebridean Black, "you and Bill, eh?" She spluttered in reply and looked in alarm at the violet haired woman, who quickly held her hands up in reassurance. "Relax, I won't tell anyone; I learnt my lesson after I blew Angelina's secret out of the water."  
She laughed at this. "Don't worry, I suspected it too."  
"Sooo, you and Bill?"  
Hermione smirked at her. "Sooo, you and Charlie?"  
Toni, feigning nonchalance, suddenly became fascinated with checking the temperature on a lone blue egg, before shrugging and saying, "Hey, want me to show you how this works?" Hermione frowned and recieved a sly smile in return. "You wont give me details, I wont give you details. It's the way the world works, you know."  
She rolled her eyes and returned her attention to the baby, before muttering, "It's been going on for a few months now, it's pretty serious."  
Toni gave a shout of approval, making her jump, before grinning and joining her. "Charlie and I have been casually meeting up every now and then for the past two months or so. We both like each other but, well, it's always difficult to have anything serious with co-workers, you know? And there's a big chance one of us could be relocated, but still..."  
Hermione gave her a small smile. "I think you two would be great together."

Toni thanked her before lapsing into a thoughtful silence. "Listen, this is probably none of my business," she began, sounding unsure for the first time Hermione had known her, "but doesn't Bill have all that drama going on with his wife and daughter? And isn't Ron in love with you or something?" She merely sighed and nodded in return, and after a while she felt an arm being wrapped reassuringly around her shoulders. "I'm sure it'll work out. From what Charlie's told me that woman- Phlegm is it?- is no good, and Bill's well shot of her; everyone will be thrilled when you decide to tell them. Even Ron, you just might have to give him some time."  
"Ron's not the main issue right now; though I'm dreading hurting him, if I'm honest it'll be nice for him to stop bugging me so much. But it's not Fleur I'm worried about, it's Victoire, his daughter, or as good as. He misses her so much, and there's nothing I can do to help."  
"Just being around him will help; you're a good person who cares about him and he knows that."  
Hermione gave her a small smile. "Yes, O Wise One." She quipped, immediately shattering the tense atmosphere and sending them into peals of laughter.

"You ladies done in here, or will we have to drag you out?" Charlie entered with a wink, his brother close behind.  
Putting on her best serious face, she met his eyes and said, "Bill, how would you feel about me adopting a dragon?"  
He immediately spat out the swig of water he'd just taken and started coughing in shock, making the women start giggling again. Once he'd calmed down enough to talk, he fixed her with a glare and sidled over, muttering, "I'll get you back for that." She simply winked and followed the others back out and to the entrance; their day at the reserve was over.  
"Well, 'Mione," Charlie began as he hugged Bill goodbye, "I don't know why you brought my idiot brother, but I'm glad you did. Good to see you mate."  
"You too, we'll catch up soon; drinks are on you."  
Laughing, he moved onto her next and hugged her tightly, swinging her off the ground and in a circle, making her squeal. "Hope you had a good time Hermione."  
"It was the best," she gushed, "I can't thank you enough!"  
Toni gave her a tight embrace next. "You're welcome back anytime, just send an owl!" She repeated her gratitude before following Bill back through the floo, waving goodbye as she went.

As soon as she arrived back at her house, she was reminded that she had to get ready for her 'date', and her mood drooped immediately; Bill, upon noticing this kissed her swiftly until she forgot almost everything else, and half an hour later found them once more in her bed, her mood fully restored. "Mm, I should really get redressed." She mumbled. He sighed (grunting once more that he wished his mother wasn't so insane that they were sure she would kill them if they announced their relationship before the wedding) but released her from the alcove his arms had made around her body, and contended himself watching her throwing on an old pair of jeans and a faded sweater, grinning as he thought that she'd always taken more effort when meeting him. She give him a chaste kiss goodbye, and was gone in a minute.

To his surprise and, he wasn't ashamed to admit, delight, she was back only an hour and a half later, beaming and claiming that she loved his sister and her scheming ways. At his inquisitve look, she told him of how she and Ron had gone to dinner in a small, casual place before going to a Muggle bar, where she had used the two-way notepad she had developed for them in school when they didn't want the boys to hear them talking (usually when they were talking about the boys themselves) to tell her where to come. And come she had, with an army of distraction consisting of Dean, Seamus, Neville, Hannah, Anthony, Jared, Susan Bones, Ernie MacMillan and many other people from her own year at school. Ron had groaned in disappointment and irritation but Hermione, ever the picture of politeness, had asked them to join them, having to bite back a bark of laughter when Ginny promptly wedged herself inbetween her best friend and brother.

Ron, of course, had not been happy, but Anthony, obviously remembering her desire to avoid him, quickly engaged her in a light conversation that was casual enough to not seemed forced, but intense enough to effectively cut off any other interaction with her 'date'. She was enjoying herself, and pleased to find that Ron, after pouting and glaring at everyone for ten minutes, seemed to be engaged in a deep discussion about the latest Quidditch league standings with a group off to the side, assuaging her guilt somewhat. But she was also tired and hot after her day at the reserve and half an hour after everyone had arrived, she had politely made her excuses and left.

Bill grinned at her as she settled back in to bed with him, and quietly murmurmed against her hair, "Remind me to send Ginny some chocolates tommorrow."  
"With her cravings you're probably better off with mashed potato and ice cream. Apparently that's all she's wanted for days." She chuckled back.  
He placed a gentle kiss against the side of her neck. "Perfect end to a perfect day."  
He could feel her smirk even as sleep overcame them. "You really are cheesy sometimes."


	19. Chapter 18

**A/N Thanks again to all of you lovely people who've read this, especially those that have favourited, followed and reviewed! Special thanks to cat130 (glad you're still enjoying!), arabellagrace (hope you're not too disappointed with the ending I have planned), cares 1970 (you're very welcome for the updates, you have a great week!), eliza6801 (I'm happy you like it!) and, igoteamedward (very welcome :) ), pianomouse (it makes me happy that it made you happy!) and half black prince (I might have to write an alternate ending now with Bill just cursing Ron so he constantly throws up slugs, hehe).**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing but the thoughts in my head, but I still hope you enjoy this chapter!**

 **Chapter 18**

The weeks after this passed well; she and Bill finished rejuvenating Shell Cottage, Mr Archer had finally stopped screaming at her whenever she walked through the door, and Neville had begun his apprenticeship/teacher-training under Professor Spout at Hogwarts. She had headed to the Potters one Saturday, after a few more disastrous 'friendly catch ups' which Harry had ducked out of, and though he seemed absent from the house, spent a good while moaning and ranting to Ginny about her husbands antics.

She paused for breath for a moment, and jumped as her friend suddenly yelled, "Harry James Potter, you get your chosen one arse out here right now!"  
It seemed that her pregnancy hormones were rife and this was not an infrequent occurrence, as when he arrived from the back yard, he meekly smiled at his wife and, in a timid voice, said, "Yes love? Oh, hey 'Mione, you all right?"  
"No she's not bloody all right." Ginny raged, somehow still managing to look intimidating as she lay on her sofa, feet suspended and stomach swollen. "You keep your bloody nose out of her love life or I swear to Merlin I'll lock you in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom for a week. Understand?!"  
He looked with confusion towards Hermione. "Uh, what-"  
"Ronald! Stop trying to bloody set them up!" Ginny yelled. "Now, do we have any raspberries?"  
The sudden subject change threw her off, but evidently Harry was used to it by now. "No, love, but we have strawberries, if you'd like..." At her stony glare he trailed off and cleared his throat. "I'll just go and get some raspberries." He stated before bolting. Hermione looked with some trepidation towards her best girlfriend when he had left, but sighed in relief when she burst into peals of laughter, joining her soon after.

...

It was in her third week of her new job that disaster stuck. She was working in companionable silence with Jo when they heard running feet outside and, unable to resist, stuck their heads out of the door to ask what the commotion was. "We've got them!" Came the excited reply. "We've bloody got them got them!" Hermione met her friend's eyes with confusion, and frowned as the four Aurors ran into Archer's office, before in an unusual act of rebellion, Hermione pulled two sets of Extendible Ears from her pocket, and they listened in to the conversation.

"Very good, it's about time. Any casualties?" Came Bob's sharp voice.  
"A few. Potter and Weasley were the first to go in and they're at St. Mungo's, but-"  
Hermione heard nothing else as she pulled the string from her ear and ran to the office. "Potter and Weasley?!" She shrieked at the shocked looking group. "As in Harry Potter and Ron Weasley?!" The Aurors nodded silently, before covering their ears at her terrified scream. She sprinted towards the nearest apparation point, yelling at everyone to get out of her way, before she found herself outside the abandoned store that hid the Wizard Hospital. "Let me the hell in!" She screamed at the mannequin, ignoring the Muggle's odd looks, and stepped through the glass without even being surprised at their allowance of her entry, frowning at the crowded entrance.

She stormed over to the greeting area, and, ignoring the queue behind her and the press snapping desperate pictures of her, stepped in front of the receptionist. At the other patient's annoyed calls, she promptly turned on her heel and, waving her wand, healed a gash running along a woman's leg, rearranged a man's arms and legs until they looked normal, and removed an oboe from a place she thought it impossible to fit in. "Where are Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley?!" She demanded of the Healer, ignoring the surprised but pleased sounds from the patients behind her.  
"No press or public are allowed to see them." The man answered lazily, not even looking up from his crossword puzzle.  
Hermione swore that her hair crackled with anger as she bit out. "I'm not press, and I'm not public, I'm their friend. So where are they?"  
He sighed heavily, gnawing the end of his quill as he considered a clue on his puzzle. "Yeah, yeah, we're all friends with the Golden Trio. You can wait outside with the rest of their 'friends'." He still hadn't looked up at her, and she felt the need to slap him.  
"What's your name?" She asked coldly.  
He yawned widely. "Terry."  
"Well Terry, I advise that you look the _fuck_ up and see who you're dealing with."  
"Ma'am, we do not tolerate abuse towards our employees, I'm afraid that-" He froze as his eyes finally lifted and he took in who he was speaking to. "You-you're Hermione Granger!" He said in shock. " _Hermione Grange_ r!"  
"Yes, I bloody well am, and I swear to Merlin that if you don't tell me where my friends are, I will get you fired for incompetence! You're already getting a complaint for your blatant disregard for customer care, so don't make it worse for yourself! _Now where the hell are Harry and Ron_?!" He quickly sent her to the fourth floor, Spell Damage, and as she glanced back she saw him taking much more of an interest in the line of remaining patients, and calling loudly for the photographers and journalists to leave her alone.

Arriving on the floor, she followed his instructions to find the right ward, and cried in relief when she saw Harry sitting in the waiting area. "Harry! You're okay!" She yelled, before taking in his blood-stained robes. "What in Godric's name happened to you?! And where is Ron?!"  
Harry, still determined, despite his at times terrifying wife, to reconcile his friends, mutely pointed to a nearby door. "I'm okay, 'Mione, Ron can explain it."  
She slipped through the door to find her friend with bandages wrapped around his torso and half his face, looking paler than she'd ever seen him, even after his poisoning. "Ron!" She cried, running over to his side and grabbing his hand.  
He opened his uncovered eye and gave a weak smile. "Hey 'Mione."  
"Merlin, what's happened to you?"  
He attempted to shrug but winced with pain when he did, settling for looking at her happily. "It's kind of a long story. I'm glad you're here though, I already feel better. Tell you what," He smirked slightly, "I'd feel loads better if I had a little kiss." She brushed some hair from his face and re-arranged his sheets in a motherly way, ignoring his last comment and making him sigh. "Come on, 'Mione, why don't you want us to try?"  
"We're better as friends, you know that." She replied softly.  
"We _were_." He insisted. "Give me a chance, please."  
"Ron," She started in her best no-nonsense voice, effectively changing the subject, though her concerned, guilt ridden eyes betrayed her, "if you don't have a damned good reason for why you've ended up in hospital, as soon as you're better I'm going to hex you back in here!"  
The irritation faded from Ron's eyes and suddenly they were dark. "Lestrange."  
"What?"  
"Rabastan and Rodolphus Lestrange, we've been looking for them for ages. When I saw them I couldn't help myself, I had to take them on."  
"Why?" Hermione asked, thoroughly confused.  
"Bellatrix hurt you." Ron said simply. She cried a little, holding his hand throughout, and ignored his request for a kiss once more, hating the disappointed look in his eyes.

An hour later, she, Ron and Harry were reminiscing about past times, when Molly burst through the door, screaming wildly. She and Harry excused themselves, smiling slightly at a frantic Arthur as he rushed to catch up to his wife, before sitting in the waiting room with the other Weasleys. Bill glanced at her, looking concerned, but was unable to move to be next to her as Harry quickly pulled her to a corner. "So, 'Mione," he began with a small smile, " I know I'm meant to be keeping my 'chosen one arse' out, but you and Ron again?"  
She frowned. "No, Harry, we're just friends."  
"You were holding his hand."  
"I would've held your hand after you'd been in serious danger. In fact, I _have_ held your hand after you've been in serious danger!"  
He sighed. "Come on, you know he wants to give the two of you a proper chance, why not?" He looked at her earnestly.  
She racked her mind for an excuse but 'lesbian' and 'celibate' didn't seem to fit. "Uh, I'm really busy with my new job."  
He glared at her. "I know you, and that excuse won't work. I bet you've already done next months work." She blushed, unable to deny it. "Now what is actually going on?"  
"I'm a lesbian?"  
"Nope."  
"I'm celibate?"  
"Nope."  
"I'm seeing someone."  
"Hermione I'm not going to believe that you're into women or anti-sex, or- wait, what?" Harry looked shocked. "You're seeing someone? Who?!"  
"I can't say." She replied.  
He frowned at her. "Are you actually being serious 'Mione? Can it be worse than McLaggen?! I mean really-"

Luckily, yet unluckily for her, Ginny chose that moment to step in, cheerfully asking whether Hermione had used her birthday present yet. She avoided them, leaving Harry asking what Ginny had given her, by saying she needed to go back to work. But before she did she stopped back in on Ron, promising that she would be back soon, and then disapparated, silently sending a curse to blow up some of the press' camera as she left. She didn't go back to the Ministry, or back home, but to her parent's house, where she fell asleep for a few hours on the sofa. She was awoken by her father gently stroking her hair, and smiled at him. Her mother came in and gave him a stern look, telling him that he _definitely_ needed to visit the store, and though it took a few minutes, her dad finally understood and disappeared, leaving Hermione and her mother together.

"Right," Her mum said, as she brought a couple of cans of diet coke from the kitchen, "what's up?"  
She smiled and accepted her drink. "Nothing, mum, I just wanted to see you guys."  
"Rubbish." Jean claimed. "You've been with Bill for weeks, and now you've turned up here, something must be wrong." Hermione gaped in shock, and she smiled knowingly. "Dear, I'm your mother, I know you and I know the looks you and Bill have been giving each other. Are you happy with him?"  
She suddenly burst into tears. "Mum I love him so much! He's the best man I've ever met, he gave me this!" She brandished her ring, and continued. "It's a promise that one day we'll be married and have a family together!"  
Her mother looked alarmed. "Why are you crying then darling? I know things are difficult at the moment with him and his, er, wife, but I was under the impression he didn't want to be with Fleur anymore?"  
"He doesn't," she sobbed, "but there's still Victoire and Ron!"  
"Well I'm sure they can come to some arrangement with Victoire, but what has Ron got to do with it?"  
"Fleur's disappeared with her daughter, Bill hasn't heard from them in months! And Ron..." She sighed. "He seems to think we should give our relationship another go. He's been visiting me at work _every day_ , sometimes two or three times, and we had to go on this stupid date and now he keeps asking me out and-"  
Her mum frowned. "Why not just tell everyone about you and Bill?"  
"We're planning to, at Angie's wedding."  
"Why not sooner?"  
Hermione, eyes nearly dry, looked at her mother with doubt. "Have you met Mrs Weasley?" Her mum gave a slight nod and a sly smile.  
"Yes, I suppose it would be better to wait until she's less stressed out to tell her."  
"She's determined to set Ron and I up, and have Bill and Fleur get back together."  
"Have you told Ron you just want to be friends?"  
"I tried but he won't listen, and I don't want to lose him." She was crying again. "I do love him, just not in that way. This guilt is killing me!"  
"I know darling."

She rested her head on her mother's shoulder and let the tears fall openly. "He was hurt earlier on. He's in St Mungo's, the wizarding hospital. I heard it through work today, half of his body's bandaged up."  
"He'll be okay, you told me St Mungo's can heal almost anything."  
"I know, mum, but I should have been there to stop him getting hurt in the first place."  
"Sweetheart, you have to let go of this guilt that you're carrying. First of all, it's Ron's choice to not listen, you can't make it for him. And, darling, you've lived through terrible times, seen awful things happen, even had awful things happen to you. But none of it is your fault; not the people you've lost, not the people who've been hurt, and not Ron getting hurt today. Remember, you're still fighting too. All of those new laws you're drafting, and all the great work you've done for the creatures and animals in your world, you're taking the fight to the people in charge! And personally, I'm very glad that your not out there looking for those horrible Death Eaters, and I imagine Harry and Ron are too. You've already done so much; the world wouldn't be safe without you."  
"But it's always been the three of us, I was the one who's job it was to calm them down, think things through, so they didn't get hurt! And now it's my fault Ron's in hospital!"  
"Hermione Jean Granger, look at me." Her eyes were so filled with moisture that her mother's face was blurred. "It was not your fault that-"  
"Yes it was!" She cried, jumping up from the sofa and pacing distraughtly. "Remember I told you about the woman who gave me this?" She rolled up the sleeve of her sweater and showed the Mudblood scar on her arm, seeing her mother flinch and wince. "It was her husband and his brother they went after. In Ron's own words, when he saw them he 'couldn't help himself'. I should have been there to calm him down!"  
To her shock, her mum laughed. "You've never been able to calm Harry and Ron down when they have their minds set on something, dear. The only thing that would've come from you being there is that you might be hurt too."

Hermione slumped back down on the sofa, and her mum started stroking her hair soothingly, like she did when she was younger and had a nightmare. "I was so excited when I got my letter, and Professor McGonagall came to explain everything. It must be fourteen years ago now, and so much has changed. Sometimes I wish..." She sighed heavily. "I wish that my life was innocent, even if it meant not having magic. I had to attack people, go face to face with murderers, when I was just a teenager."  
Jean looked at her daughter sadly. "It's not fair, sweetheart. You know that if I had it my way you would've gone to Hogwarts and had a happy, peaceful time there, no wars or dark wizards, and certainly no constant threats of death. But that's what you're fighting for now, for your children, and you'll get there! When you have children of your own, you'll understand. And until then, never doubt that Harry, Ron, Bill, and everyone else, are so proud of the work you're doing. And so am I, my little girl."  
She gave a watery chuckle. "I'm not so little anymore."  
Her mum smiled at her. "You'll always be my little one. Try to focus on the good things at the moment; you're doing fantastic good with your work, the world is safer because of what you've fought for, and you're in love with a lovely man who loves you back."  
"Dad hates Bill."  
"He's your father, it's programmed into his DNA to hate any man who likes you."  
She chuckled weakly. "You like him though?"  
She grinned. "I think he's perfect for you, dear."  
"I don't want to break Ron's heart or upset the Weasleys." She confessed quietly. "Enough families have been torn apart recently."  
"It'll work itself out, you'll see." Her mum promised.


	20. Chapter 19

**A/N Apologies in advance for my attempt at writing accents...**

 **Thanks to everyone once more who's taken time with this, you guys are awesomesauce.**

 **Disclaimer: I woke up this morning, and realised that I'd completely changed bodies, and was now JK Rowling! Then I actually woke up and I'm still me. Ah well, everything recognisable is JKR's!**

 **Chapter 19**

Ron was out of hospital in just a few days, and life returned to normal for them all. Hermione sat in on the Lestrange brothers' trial, smiling in grim triumph as they were sentenced to life in Azkaban. Both caught her gaze as they were escorted out, narrowing their eyes in hatred, Rodolphus mouthing, "I'll get you Mudblood," as he passed, to which she only smirked. Ron continued to bug her every day, and it had become a daily occurrence for her to constantly state her desire to be only friends, not that this deterred him. His latest desire, on top of another 'date' and her undying devotion, was to see her new house, though to the Weasley's knowledge she was still staying at Shell Cottage. She made up excuse after excuse, before finally losing her temper and practically yelling at him to leave her alone to work. He was back again the next day.

Two weeks after the trial was Bill's thirty-fourth birthday, and once more Hermione's life was turned upside-down. She had finally gathered her courage and woken Bill up wearing Ginny's present, which was predictably skimpy and made her flush red from the barely covered area between her thighs to her lace covered breasts. After taking in her attire, he promptly threw the breakfast she had brought him to the floor and ravished her body, groaning and gasping that he loved her. Afterwards, curled up in her bed and looking at the discarded tray of food, he declared that he'd had the best birthday breakfast ever, before grinning and pulling her to the bathroom to shower together.

By midday, they were sated but thoroughly exhausted, and stumbled blearily downstairs to get some sustenance, Hermione discreetly hiding Bill's present in her beaded bag. It was as she was cooking them a small midday meal that an owl tapped at the window, looking very tired; she opened the window, took the letter and offered the owl a treat, a drink of water and a perch where it could rest. It hooted gratefully and swiftly flew over and tucked its head under it's wing, falling asleep instantly and she began instinctively opening the parchment, before seeing it was for Bill and, apologising, handed it to him. He read the note, paling dramatically as he did, and by the time he'd finished his mouth was hanging open in shock and his eyes were wide and tearful.

"They're at Shell Cottage." He whispered, still staring at the letter before him.  
"Who?" She asked curiously.  
His shocked eyes snapped up to meet hers. "Victoire. She's brought Victoire back. They're at Shell Cottage."  
Hermione gasped, before dragging him to the floo. "You get to see her! Oh, Bill, this is so wonderful! Come on!"  
Bill suddenly dug his heels in and looked dark. "Phlegm will be there. But Victoire..." He looked undecided before staring at her imploringly. "Come with me? Please?" She stuttered for a moment, but seeing his begging expression, nodded in agreement. He grasped her hand and they stepped into the fire, calling "Shell Cottage!"

No sooner had they stepped out of the fireplace, Bill was thrown backwards by a small blonde child. "Daddy!" Victoire cried happily. "I've missed you daddy!"  
Bill promptly lifted her up and hugged her tightly, trying to stop the tears that were running down his face, but grinning. "I've missed you too darling. I've missed you so much." He choked out.  
"We 'ave all missed each uzzer, it eez good to zee you Bill." Came Fleur's throaty voice as she stepped down the stairs. "But what haz 'appened to our 'ouse? Eet looks so strange."  
Bill gave her a cold look, still holding Victoire protectively. "I thought it needed a new look, seeing as almost everything had been taken."  
"Mama I like the new house." Victoire cut in, and Bill smiled adoringly at her.  
Fleur, ignoring her daughter's comment, glared at Bill. "Zees is our 'ome, you had no right."  
"No right?!" He replied loudly.  
"Victoire, would you like to play outside?" Hermione interrupted, not wanting the young child to see her parents argue.  
"'Ermione! I did not zee you zere!" Fleur exclaimed. "What are you doing 'ere?"  
"I've been helping Bill redo the house." She muttered.  
"What?!" Fleur screeched, and Hermione grabbed Victoire's hand and took her outside. "You let anuzzer woman to change our 'ome!?"

Hermione cast a quick silencing charm over the cottage, and led the young girl onto the beach. "Do you remember who I am Victoire?" She asked softly.  
The young blonde nodded proudly. "You're Herm-nee. You're Uncle Ron's friend."  
"That's right! I'm your daddy's friend too though." She said gently.  
The five-year old frowned. "I miss my daddy. Mama says he's been working, but I still miss him."  
She stroked her hair gently. "I'm sure your mama and daddy can sort something out. You'll be seeing your daddy much more now." At the child's unbelieving look, she racked her brain for a distraction. "Hey, how would you like to read one of your daddy's favourite books with me?" Victoire's face lit up, and Hermione accio'd the copy of The Very Hungry Caterpillar she'd bought weeks ago from her house.

Sitting on the beach with Victoire in her lap, they read the story, and Hermione conjured an image of a caterpillar and the various foods as the tale was told; the young girl giggling and swiping at the bug as it grew bigger and bigger. When they reached the end of the book, she made the cocoon explode and release thirty butterflies, which Victoire chased along the beach, squealing in delight as they turned into glitter when she caught them. She quickly grabbed Hermione's hand and dragged her along the beach, giggling wildly when they ran into the shallows of the sea to catch a few stray butterflies, running back quickly as the cold water splashed her face. She drew her wand and swiftly made a few childlike figures out of the sand and sea, which her young companion danced and laughed with, before she once more grabbed Hermione and they danced in circles, cheering wildly.

It was this scene of mirth that Bill saw when he stormed out of the cottage, and his raging expression immediately gave way to a wide grin. Upon seeing him, Hermione dropped her enchantments and followed Victoire as she ran towards her father. "Daddy, daddy!" She called in excitement. "Herm-nee read a book about catpills and buttflies, then they were sparkly, then we were dancing!"  
"I'm glad you had a good time darling." He said, swinging her up until she was rested on his hip, kissing her cheek affectionately.  
"I like Herm-nee." The girl declared. "I want to see her again. And I want to see you daddy! I miss you!"  
Bill buried his face in her hair and closed his eyes. "I miss you too, my lovely baby girl. I miss you so much."  
"Are we going to be together again soon?"  
"Yes, darling, we are."  
Fleur came out at that moment and, not looking at Victoire, stated; "You 'ave two weeks to decide." She promptly took the child from Bill's arms, though she could see he tried to hold on desperately, and returned to the cottage. When he and Hermione returned, the flames from the floo had already diminished.

She rubbed his shoulder, unsure what to do. "Bill, are you okay?" She asked lamely. He moved away from her and grabbed a bottle of firewhiskey, drinking straight from the bottle. "What did Fleur say?" She asked bravely.  
"Don't ask." He replied coldly. "Maybe you should go." She moved towards the door, trying not to feel insulted and reassuring herself that he'd had a stressful day, when Bill grabbed her arm. She turned to him and saw that he was crying desperately, looking broken. "I'm sorry, 'Mione. I'm so sorry."  
She massaged his back and kissed his cheek. "You've nothing to be sorry for."  
He shook his head, muttering; "You don't even know."  
"Then tell me!" She implored.  
"I cant."  
"Bill-"  
"I'll see you at the Burrow later."  
She moved to the fireplace, and murmured "I love you," before disappearing in the green flames.

She collapsed on her sofa, frowning and wondering what in Merlin's name Fleur had said to Bill, sadly pulling his present from her bag. She smiled slightly at the book she had jokingly bought for him, describing how to properly braid hair, and thinking happily about the two tickets to Japan within; he had wanted to visit the ancient Samurai tombs for a long time, she knew, and she had previously been very excited to surprise him with the trip. Now though, it seemed pointless, and she felt tears form in her eyes at Bill's obvious distress, and her inability to help him.

...

She saw him briefly that night for his birthday meal at the Burrow, but he only stayed for an hour, much to Mrs Weasley's distress. She gave her present to him, grinning and trying to catch his eye, but he merely thanked her and kept his gaze downwards, and though she followed him when he left for the apparation point, he still refused to look at her, and simply muttered a goodbye.

She was very hurt when, the morning after his birthday, Bill sent back the wrapped gift unopened, with no note or explanation regarding its return. She tried to go to Shell Cottage, where he had stayed the previous night, but found the floo blocked, and anti-apparition wards surrounding the whole beach. Over the next few days she attempted to visit him, both at home and at work, but was met with magical barriers around Shell Cottage and goblins claiming that Mr Weasley was busy.

Ginny visited her at her office a week after her brother's birthday, interrupting her work on a satisfyingly challenging law regarding trade between themselves and the Irish Ministry, grumpily saying that she'd had to make up a story regarding her 'secret partner' to her husband. "You know, you really should just tell Harry about you and Bill. He'll understand."  
Hermione burst suddenly into tears, making Ginny jump in shock at her friend's uncharacteristic behaviour. "I don't know what happened!" She wailed. "He just stopped talking to me after Fleur turned up, and-"  
"What?!" Her friend interrupted. "Phlegm arrived?!"  
She nodded miserably. "She came with Victoire, but Bill and Fleur ended up arguing."  
"What about?"  
"I don't know. I took Victoire outside and cast a silencing charm. He hasn't spoken to me since!" She saw Jo reappear, back from her coffee trip, and was very grateful when she quietly closed the door to give them privacy.  
"Hermione, what in Merlin's name is going on? Why didn't you tell me Phlegm had arrived? None of us have seen him in over two weeks, it's like he's vanished off the face of the Earth."  
Her eyes widened in concern. "What?!"  
Ginny nodded solemnly. "We've all tried Shell Cottage, Gringotts, owls, everything. All our letters return unopened, and he sent our birthday presents back too."  
"Mine too."

Ginny, now satisfied that Hermione wasn't going to burst into tears again, hoisted herself up to sit on her desk and started swinging her legs, looking contemplative. "I wonder what they were arguing about? And why the heck has Phlegm chosen now to come back?"  
She merely buried her head in her hands and sighed heavily. "I don't know Gin. Merlin, I've been such an emotional wreck recently, I don't know what to do with myself."  
She hopped down and grabbed her friend's hand. "I do." She declared, and began to drag her out of her office. They ran into Jo, who was awkwardly waiting outside for it to be safe for her to enter, and Ginny flashed her a wide smile. "Hey, you must be Jo, right?" Without waiting for an answer she continued. "I need to borrow 'Mione for the day; there's an engagement party in a few days and in her typical style, she's not got anything to wear for it."  
"Ginny!" She cried, appalled. "I can't just take the day off work!"  
"Of course you can," Jo replied, "I owe you for covering for me the other day anyway. Go out, have some fun, you deserve a good time."

She gave her a hug and grateful smile, before Ginny called her thanks and pulled her away. "So," she started, "it's eleven o clock now, I'm thinking we meet up with Toni, Angelina and Audrey, get them out of work, have a couple of hours shopping, then a light lunch, then we should have about four hours to decide on make-up and hair for this weekend."  
"Gin, we do _not_ need four hours to decide things like that. I already have something to wear at home, so I think I'll just head back and start working through the Quidditch World Cup Final details. It's being held in Norway but with the Triwizard Tournament coming up we offered to help out with-"  
"Hermione Jean Granger, that's not until next year!" She exclaimed. "And I can guarantee that when you say you have 'something to wear', you mean that pant suit you've worn every single celebration recently, and you are _not_ wearing that again."  
She frowned. "Why not? It's practical, it's comfortable, and it looks-"  
"Like you're about to go to work? Yeah, it does. 'Mione, we need to get you something hot, something to show off your body! And don't you dare say _anything_ about your body with me looking like this."  
She bit her tongue, looking at her friend, slightly waddling but determinedly attempting to storm through the Atrium and into one of the fireplaces, holding her now prominently swollen stomach. "At least you have an excuse to tell people to get out of your way." She offered weakly, and Ginny smirked back at her, doing just that.


	21. Chapter 20

**A/N Many thanks once more to you all, sorry if you didn't like the return of Phlegm. Extra special thanks to Cat130 (glad you're still enjoying it, and big thanks for staying with this story), pianomouse (your comments made me laugh so much, 'witch slap' is a brilliant phrase!), arabellagrace (sorry if the last chapter upset you...), cares1970 (as ever, your comments are lovely, well thought out and very appreciated!) and IGOTEAMEDWARD (here's some more, as requested :) two days early too!)**

 **Also, thanks to the internet for its translation sites... Sorry if there's any mistakes.**

 **Disclaimer: Do I need to say it? Nothing you recognise is mine, but I hope you all enjoy what I've written regardless.**

 **Chapter 20**

Desperate, and not knowing what else to do, after Ginny had finally released her from the 'joys' of pre-party preparation (though she didn't know why on earth they had to decide these things days in advance), she found herself back in the Ministry, ordering an international portkey. Though usually these things took a few days to prepare, she made an unusual use of her celebrity and, signing a few photos of herself (she was happy to see her photographic version was hiding in a corner from the people gawking at her, coming out only to glare at her in betrayal), had one booked within only a few minutes. She felt the usual jolt at her navel but managed to stay on her feet as she landed, swaying only slightly before looking around at the familiar landscape, frowning deeply.

She had visited this area of France before when on holiday with her parents, and it was pure chance that this was where the Delacours lived, though a chance she was very grateful for now as she walked up towards the area of large town-houses which she knew held theirs. The small town of Louhans in Burgundy was quaint and unassuming, but Hermione knew from experience that there was a vast magical community hidden from Muggle eyes, much as Diagon Alley was. Strolling casually towards the ancient and now unused apothecary, she checked to make sure she was alone before leaning sideways and slipping through the window that held dusty displays of empty bottles and equipment, arriving immediately on the street that was almost exactly alike to the one she had just left, if, of course, you ignored the blatant and obvious magic. The shops were all the same size and shape, though boasted displays of beetle eyes and broomsticks rather than baguettes and tourist mementos. Even the small post office looked the same, with added owls, though she knew that if she were to look inside any of these shops she would find them enlarged; it was here that she had first heard of the undetectable extension charm she was so fond of.

But she was not here to shop, though she nearly had to drag herself away from the book store that was crying out for her attention, so she focussed herself and walked purposefully towards the end of the street, where the many large houses stood, mansions even, showing off their beauty to the shoppers. She tried desperately to remember the exact address that Bill had once mentioned to her, but even her brilliant memory couldn't find it and so, frowning, she resigned herself to knocking on doors and asking if the Delacours lived their. However, no sooner had she readied herself for the looks of disapproval the French would undoubtedly give, she heard her name being called throatily and, terrified, as it was a woman, she turned and prepared to see Fleur. It was not the woman that she had decided that she hated infinitely more than failing a test that greeted her though, but her mother, the beautiful and kind-hearted, if occasionally snobbish, Apolline Delacour. The veela traits in her were more noticeable than in her daughters, but rather than making her seem proud and haughty (Hermione wasn't prejudiced towards Phlegm, the French whore, she told herself) they softened her appearance and seemed to give light to those around her.

"Madame Delacour, such a pleasure to see you again!" She called out happily, grateful that she wouldn't have to suffer the irritation of her neighbours.  
"Ma chère," She replied, kissing her on both cheeks, "please, I am Apolline to you."  
She smiled back at the older woman; though her accent was very pronounced, her spoken English was quite remarkable for someone who had spent the majority of life in France, though from past experience Hermione knew she had a tendency to throw some of her native language in at random. "Okay then, Apolline. How have you been?"  
"Ah, très bien, et tu?"  
"Bien, merci."  
"What breengs you à la France?"  
"I was actually hoping to visit you, if you're not too busy?"  
She linked her arm affectionately through the younger woman's and they continued the walk down the street, Hermione not failing to notice that jealous looks she was getting from the majority of the male population. "Of course not, it eez nice to zee you again, 'Ermione. I 'ope that you weel stay pour, what do you call eet, le dîner?"  
"Le dîner est 'dinner'." The other woman tried the English word on her tongue, before looking to Hermione for confirmation. She smiled in response; the pair had become fairly close in the preparations for Bill and her daughter's wedding, as she was one of the few who could speak a decent amount of French, and so helped her with her occasional difficulties in communication. "I'd love to, but I'm afraid I won't be staying for long, this is just a passing trip really."

Her companion's face fell, but then she shrugged. "Ah well, you must come veesit de nouveau, myself and Christophe mees you."  
"I'll be sure to come again soon, it certainly has been too long."  
They had reached the doorstep of a large house that loomed over the others, and Hermione had to suppress a smirk; of course they would have the largest, grandest house around, though she was surprised to find that it was pleasantly tasteful. "Entrez," Apolline called over her shoulder as she strolled through the door, and she obligingly followed, gazing in wonder at the expensive artwork on the walls, before the other woman asked, "would you like a dreenk?"  
"Non, merci."  
Madame Delacour led her through many elaborately furnished rooms before they settled in a small sitting room, obviously meant for private meetings. She felt rather self-conscious in her jeans and halter-neck as she sat on the impeccably clean couch, but the older woman seemed not to notice as she smiled at her. "I am afraid Christophe eez pas en ville, but I weel tell him you came."  
"Please, give Monsier Delacour my best."  
"Oui, oui." Apolline fixed her with unwavering blue eyes for a moment, before tilting her head and saying, in her light voice, "I theenk you 'ave not come 'ere for a, what deed you call it, une visite de passage?"  
"A passing visit? No, I didn't really."  
"What can I 'elp you weeth?"  
Looking for her Gryffindor bravery and reminding herself that this was her last hope, she quietly said, "I was wondering if you'd seen Bill at all."  
The other woman's eyes lit up. "Oh, but you weel want to see Fleur! She 'as come 'ome with leetle Victoire, I will call 'er."  
"Oh no, please don't-"  
But it was too late, as Apolline's surprising loud voice called out, "Fleur, venez ici s'il vous plaît!"

Hermione buried her face in her hands as she heard footsteps tapping against the wooden floor, but raised her head, though she kept her eyes placed firmly on the fireplace, when she heard another's voice. "Maman, qu'est-ce?"  
"'Ermione is 'ere."  
"'Ermione?!"  
Fleur called out in confusion, and the woman in question finally met her eyes, trying to keep the hatred out of them as she meekly murmured, "Bonsoir, Fleur."  
"She wanted to know if you had seen Beel." Apolline added, very unhelpfully in Hermione's opinion, confirmed by the suddenly dark look in the quarter-veela's eyes.  
"Maman, allez-vous prendre Victoire?"  
"Of course!" The woman immediately jumped up and took her granddaughter into her arms, grinning at the excitement on the child's face and leaving the two others alone.

"So," Fleur started after a tense moment, taking her mother's vacated seat, "you weesh to know about Bill."  
"We're all worried, we just want to know if he's okay." Hermione stated lamely, not meeting the other woman's piercing gaze.  
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her relax backwards and shrug nonchalantly. "I gave 'im deux semaines, two weeks, and I will leave 'im for them."  
"So you haven't seen him then?"  
"Why do you care?"  
Hermione finally looked at her directly, and could feel her eyes blazing. "Because no-one's seen him since you decided to turn up again!"  
"Per'aps he eez avoiding you."  
"His family haven't seen him either."  
Her careless laugh made Hermione's blood boil. "They can be rather, ennuyeux."  
She snorted in a most unladylike way, before letting the first of her anger seep into her voice. "As if you can talk about family, after what you did. What you're still doing, in fact."  
Fleur's cold eyes met hers, and she gave a sneer that made her look like the harpy her grandmother turned into when annoyed. "What goes on between me and my 'usband eez none of your business, 'Ermione."  
"It's not fair. Not on Bill, and not on Victoire."  
The other woman suddenly jumped up, and Hermione followed suit, until they were nose-to-nose, glaring at each other. "You weel not tell me 'ow to raise ma fille!" She spat.  
"How can you even call her your daughter after keeping her away from her father for six months?!"  
"'Er father." Fleur laughed slightly, and she felt the uncontrollable urge to slap her. So she did.

Fleur looked in shock at the hand Hermione had just struck her with, before an evil grin lit up her face and she resumed her seat. "Eet would zeem," she started in a deceptively silky voice, "that our leetle book-worm 'as a fancy for a married man."  
She blanched slightly, but stood her ground. "Whatever I may feel for Bill doesn't change the fact that what you're doing is wrong. Surely you must see that?"  
The French woman settled back and rested her perfectly manicured hands on her knees, looking every part the perfect, beautiful wife. "'E will never love you. 'E loves me, and always weel."  
"I told you, it doesn't matter-"  
But Fleur went on as if she couldn't hear her, though her eyes still bore into hers with malice. "Why would 'e want you? 'E haz me, and 'e haz Victoire."  
The words settled between them, the dark cloud that Hermione had so long tried to avoid and now was forced to face; Bill had a wife and a daughter. But then she smiled slightly, to the other woman's shock. "He'll never take you back. He still loves Victoire but he'll never forgive you for what you've done to him. You've _lost_ him, you idiot, and you'll never be able to get him back."

She turned to leave but felt sharp nails digging into her arm and turned to find Fleur inches from her face. "You theenk you know 'im so well?" She hissed violently. "'E may 'ave come to you for comfort, but we will see who weens 'im."  
"This isn't a game!" Hermione hissed back. "These are people's lives, Bill and Victoire's! The only loser will be you, when your daughter ends up hating you for separating her from her dad for so long."  
"You pathetic leetle girl, you theenk you know what weel 'appen?"  
"Why do you even want him back, you cheated on him for over five years?!"  
"Vous ne savez pas de la merde!"  
Hermione laughed, low and dark. " _I_ don't know shit?" Ripping her arm from Fleur's grasp, she squared up to her, brown eyes looking murderously into blue. "You have no idea what Bill's been through these last few months, how much he's been hurting, and I swear I will _neve_ r let you hurt him like that again." She saw the blonde's hand move towards her pocket, but months of war had made her instincts sharp, and before she could even draw her wand, Hermione had sent a silent stunner her way, leaving her sprawled ungracefully on the floor. She walked over and looked down at the hatred on the woman's face and shook her head slowly. "If you don't care about Bill, at least care about Victoire. She deserves better than this."  
As she turned and left, she distinctly heard Fleur call, "I weel have 'im back, book-worm. You weel see."

Calling in briefly to say goodbye to Apolline and Victoire, smiling as the young girl gave a very formal introduction between Herm-nee and her grandmere, she promised to make a proper visit soon, before leaving the mansion. Strolling down the street, she gave a brief worried thought as to why Fleur would be so confident about regaining Bill's affections, and frowned as she realised that she was no closer to finding out if he was okay or not. She re-entered the Muggle world and caught the portkey back to the Ministry, her mood lightening greatly as she saw an old friend almost immediately.

"Luna!" She called out, grinning.  
"'Hello Hermione. How are you?" She asked dreamily.  
"I'm okay, yourself?"  
Luna shrugged slightly. "I've been well. I still haven't found the Crumple-Horned Snorkack, but I'm sure I will soon. I've just given my report on the Gernumblies to your old Department, it's strange not seeing you there."  
The irony of having Luna Lovegood describe something as 'strange' almost made her burst into laughter, but she managed to pull it back to a slight chuckle. "It's been a few months now, I suppose."  
"Are you enjoying your new office? Daddy said that everyone there has their head filled with wrackspurts, but I can't see any around you, so I suppose you must not be fitting in well."  
Once again she had the urge to explode with mirth, but instead she grinned at the girl beside her. "I think it's just my new boss that has his brain fuzzy, the other woman I work with is lovely."  
"That's nice. Why do you look so upset then?"  
Their feet had taken them automatically to the exit of the Ministry, and Hermione halted before apparating away. "What do you mean, I look upset?" She demanded.  
Luna merely tilted her head. "I can see you don't want to talk about it." She said, shrugging slightly. "See you soon Hermione." And then the odd girl promptly disappeared.  
Arriving back home and trying to regain some of the mirth she had felt simply at talking to the odd woman, she quickly failed, and curled up with an old sweater of Bill's looking at her rose ring and crying with worry and sadness, Crookshanks burying his nose against her cheek in worry.

 **A/N2 pianomouse, the witch slap was all for you, I love it!**


	22. Chapter 21

**A/N Only two left after this chapter! Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I own four cats, but I don't own the world of HP...**

 **Chapter 21**

Angelina had wanted to wait for her and George's engagement party until her cousins from America had come in for the wedding, so it was two weeks before the wedding itself that they had it. She had also, wanting to give Mrs Weasley a break, arranged to have it in the town hall of her home village, and so it was here that Ginny and Hermione stood outside that night, looking excited and apprehensively respectively. "Gin, I'm really not sure about this." She said, tugging nervously at the hem of her dress.  
"Relax, 'Mione, you look awesome."  
"I'm hardly wearing anything!"  
The red-head rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Listen, this is the first time you're going to see my idiot brother in two weeks, and you need to show him what he's been missing. He's bound to turn up, unless he wants mum to castrate him, so you're going to walk in there, looking hot as hell, and make him regret every second he's taken away from you."  
She bit her lip nervously but nodded in acquiescence, and the two friends walked, arm in arm, through the front doors.

They were greeted by various wolf whistles and appreciative looks, and though she blushed Hermione felt much more comfortable in her navy backless dress that was cut low on the front and only reached her mid-thigh. She was four inches taller in her matching ankle boots and had allowed Ginny a free reign on her hair; after nearly an hour it was no longer bushy but sleek and tied into a wavy ponytail, showing off her long neck. They were immediately accosted by Harry and Ron, and while Harry assured his very pregnant wife that she looked beautiful in her violet dress, Ron merely gazed at Hermione, mouth hanging open in shock. He stuttered awkwardly for a moment before Molly called for him and he scurried away, though she caught him glancing back at her as though she might disappear if he didn't. Ginny excused herself to greet her old Gryffindor Quidditch team-mates, leaving Harry smiling faintly at Hermione. "You look really nice." He said casually, determinedly keeping his eyes locked on hers, so that typical male hormones couldn't make them drop to the top of her slightly revealed breasts. "And don't worry, Gin explained about your, eh, 'secret boyfriend'. And trust me, I understand not wanting Mrs Weasley to interrupt, but I'm glad you're telling people soon." At her confused look, he grinned. "We all get to find out who Mystery Man is at the wedding, right?" She nodded slightly, and, seemingly satisfied, Harry walked away to find his wife again.

She talked to Neville for a while, pleased to see him beaming about his new job, and caught up with Hannah, before half an hour after arriving, a disgruntled looking Molly announced that they should eat, and they all sat at the long table running through the middle of the room, one place obviously empty. Hermione found herself sat between Arthur and Ginny (who, when Ron tried to take her seat, pointed to her round belly and hissed, "Pregnant!"), and as her plate magically filled, she leant to the side and quietly murmured, "Mr Weasley, is Bill not coming?"  
He gave a small frown. "He was supposed to be, I don't know what he's playing at. First his birthday, now this; I'm not sure who's more upset, George or his mother."  
Glancing down the table, she saw the majority of the red-heads looking very irritated, but none more than the husband-to-be and Mrs Weasley. Percy was sat between them, trying to calm them down, though also looking unhappy, and she felt her heart drop slightly; evidently Bill was not attending this event either. She shared a small glance with Ginny, who was also scowling but gave her a sympathetic look, before trying to concentrate on the food before her.

They were halfway through their main course when he finally appeared, sticking his head around the front door and smiling slightly, though even from a distance she noticed it didn't quite meet his eyes. "Hey guys, room for a few more?"  
Victoire ran around his legs and into the room, calling excitedly as Mrs Weasley squealed and ran towards her. "Granny!" Hermione's grin seemed to freeze on her face as the group greeted the small child, none of them seeing the beautiful blonde who came beside Bill, dressed in a glittering pink dress, and wrapping her arms around his side, kissing his cheek.  
"'Ello everyone." She said in her throaty voice, throwing a spiteful glance in Hermione's direction.  
"Fleur!" Molly called happily.  
"I 'ope you do not mind uz being 'ere?"  
"Of course not dear!" Mrs Weasley pulled her son and daughter-in-law into a tight hug. "I'm so glad you're back together!"

The other Weasley sons and Harry all moved to congratulate Bill on saving his marriage, though all seemed confused and some were glaring with open hostility at his once-again wife, but Hermione still seemed frozen, her shocked smile still plastered across her face. She couldn't seem to take her gaze from the part Veela resting her head on Bill's shoulder and kissing him affectionately, though his eyes seemed to look anywhere but at her. From a distant place she heard Ginny complain about pregnancy sickness, and ask her to accompany her to the ladies' room, but she still smiled. Even when Ginny's pincer-like grip wrapped around her arm and she led her out of the room, she still smiled. And when her friend was looking at her in concern as they stood in the toilets, asking her if she was okay, she still smiled. She rested her back against the wall and felt herself slide down until she was sat on the floor, her face falling as her body did. She stared, her expression devastated but her eyes dry, at the tiled floor in front of her. "We should go back in." She murmured. "Harry will be worried about you."  
"'Mione, I-"  
"Come on Gin." She forced herself up, ignoring her friend's alarmed look at the darkness in her eyes, and walked through the door, back straight, face plastered with her fake grin, and eyes empty but still dry.

"Herm-nee!" Came Victoire's call as soon as they emerged, "You were right, my Daddy's back! Can you show Daddy the catpill?"  
She caught the child as she ran towards her, lifting her up and sitting her in her lap. "I think your Daddy already knows about the caterpillar." She kept her eyes turned firmly away from the eldest Weasley as she spoke, and also ignored Ginny's concerned look, and everyone else's confused stares.  
"Then show Granny!" The child implored, and the absolute innocence in the blonde's face made Hermione's heart melt, and she hugged the girl tightly, fighting the tears that had finally begun to fall. When she had herself under control, she smiled and once more told the story, though before the cocoon exploded, she paused as she felt a hand on her shoulder. Not looking at Bill, or giving any indication that she'd felt his hot palm against her bare skin, she finished the tale, though this time making a rainbow of roses accompany the butterflies, touching the ring on her finger sadly.

...

An hour later, she and Bill still hadn't spoken, though Victoire had demanded Hermione tell her some more stories from her childhood. She made glittering representations of Princesses and Princes as she told the tales, inwardly wincing whenever the child compared their happily-ever-afters to her own parents. "So, Ginny, when are you due?" Fleur asked midway through desert, caressing Bill's arm lovingly.  
Ginny seemed to puff up, her hair beginning to crackle as she stared murderously at her chocolate fondant. Harry, seeing this, quickly cut in, looking with concern at his wife. "The due date is in nine weeks."  
"Oh, it eez so wonderful to 'ave a child. I am sure you will be a wonderful father 'Arry, just like Bill." She stroked his hair softly as she said so, meeting Hermione's eyes and mouthing, 'I win'.  
Said man smiled slightly. "There's nothing that can compare to it."  
Ginny, having obviously reached her limit when she saw her friend's face fall once more, suddenly stood up, eyes flashing dangerously. "Merlin, how can you have the damn audacity to come here and-" She suddenly froze, holding her stomach and paling dramatically. "Crap, shit, fuck, bollocks, damn, bugger," She continued with her stream of expletives, making Molly admonish her at every word, before a pool of liquid suddenly appeared around her feet.  
"Eww!" Victoire called. "Auntie Ginny went wee-wee!"  
Harry promptly screamed and lunged towards his wife, and it was only Hermione's halting arm that stopped him from toppling them both to the floor. "We have to get to St. Mungo's." She stated, feigning a calm she didn't feel.  
"What's happening?" Ginny called, sounding terrified. "What the fuck is going on?!"  
She rubbed her shoulder reassuringly. "Gin, your water's broken, we have to get you back to London."  
She met Harry's gaze, looking horrified. "She's not due for over two months!" He yelled.  
"Sometimes stress can induce early labour." She explained, smiling kindly at her two friends. "I'm sure everything will be all right, let's just get you to hospital, okay?"  
Ginny grasped her hand desperately. "Don't leave me." She begged, and Hermione nodded reassuringly. She helped her to the nearest fireplace and, followed by Harry and the rest of the group, flooed them to St. Mungo's hospital.

...

Seven hours and forty-three minutes later, at half-past three in the morning, Ginny gave birth to James Sirius Potter, nine weeks early but, due to the help of magic, still a healthy baby boy. Hermione and Ron were the first to visit the new child and their exhausted but thrilled looking parents, Ron crying openly when he was named godfather. She gave Ginny a tight hug as the men were weeping on each other's shoulders, whispering congratulations and saying how beautiful their son was, grinning as the small child wrapped his tiny hand around one of her fingers. Her friend promised that they'd talk about Bill and Phlegm soon, but she merely brushed her off, saying that it barely mattered compared to little James.

A few minutes later, Mr and Mrs Weasley came in and she and Ron excused themselves, returning to the waiting room to tell the rest of the guests about how precious the baby was. To her great surprise, she saw the Dursleys there and, deciding that as a Muggle-born she may be the best to explain things to them, engaged them in conversation. Whilst Vernon and Dudley looked awkward, Petunia quietly requested that Hermione would ask Harry if she could see her nephew's son. Half an hour later, she led her to the hospital room, and though Ginny glared at the woman who had allowed Vernon to abuse her husband as a child, Harry gave her an awkward smile before placing James in her arms. She was silent for a few minutes before stroking the small tufts of hair on his head and giving Harry a weak nod. "He looks like you did when you were born." She gave the child back and had her hand on the doorknob before she turned back and, eyes filled with tears, gave a tight-lipped smile. "Your mum would have been proud of you." She seemed to pause, before her mouth loosened and her eyes seemed to light up a little. "Congratulations Harry."

Hermione followed her back outside, leaving Ginny to comfort her husband as he cried in shock and appreciation, but was not at all surprised to find that Harry's aunt, when she returned to her husband and son, merely shrugged and pursed her lips disapprovingly. They left a few minutes later, though Petunia discreetly asked her to send pictures of the child as he grew up, and gave a nod of thanks when she readily agreed.

"Wow," Ron said, sitting next to her, "first they arrive at the wedding, now here. I'm surprised Harry hasn't had them kicked out."  
She smiled sadly at him. "They're still his family. And I think Petunia actually might want to know James."  
He frowned slightly, before shrugging. "I guess it's up to him." He grinned broadly. "James is adorable though, isn't he?"  
She beamed back at him. "He really is, you must be so happy to be godfather!" Ron nodded excitedly. "I know you'll do a great job."  
He blushed, the tips of his ears turning scarlet. "Thanks, I really hope so. You'll help me out though, if I mess up?"  
She hugged him. "Of course I will."  
"I wonder what stressed Ginny out so much that she went into early labour?" Ron wondered, and at this moment, the very reason reappeared, explaining that he'd had to leave to help Victoire get to sleep, and that Fleur had stayed with her. Not looking at him, she gave Ron a small smile. "I'd better head off. If any of you need me, owl me and I'll be right back."  
He hugged her once more and kissed her cheek. "Thanks, 'Mione. I'll see you soon, yeah?"  
She nodded distractedly and, still keeping her eyes away from his older brother, waved goodbye. "Sure, I'll be in touch."

She speed-walked away from the waiting room and towards the main entrance, groaning silently as she heard footsteps running to catch her up. "'Mione! Hermione!" The voice called, and she broke into a sprint, flying across the polished floor and skidding around corners. She had just jumped through the window hiding the hospital from the Muggles when she got suddenly bowled over by a violet haired woman.  
"Hermione!" Toni, who had been called into work with Charlie to contain an escaped dragon, yelled in excitement. "Charlie and I just heard!" The second eldest Weasley son grabbed them both into a warm hug, grinning from ear to ear. "How are they?" She smiled at them, reassuring that both new parents were very happy, but quickly made excuses to leave when Charlie happily called his older brother's name. "'Mione, it's five am, where do you have to be?"  
She could hear Bill coming closer, clearly trying to shake his brother off, and her panic increased. "I just have to leave. See you soon!" She ran around a corner, into an alley, and Bill's distraught face was the last thing she saw before turning on the spot and disappearing. Arriving back in her house, she swiftly blocked her floo and changed her wards to block everyone except her, before running to her room and throwing herself on her bed, crying bitterly.


	23. Chapter 22

**A/N Me again! With my last round of individual thanks for My Little Girl reviewers *cries* Reading your words has brought me a lot of happiness during this story, I can't thank you all enough. pianomouse; I'm very glad you liked it :) cares1970; waaaaay back at the beginning you wondered how the prolouge came to be, and here's your answer. This chapter is for you! cat130; I like to keep you on your toes sometimes... arabellagrace; men can be such idiots sometimes. IGOTEAMEDWARD; I hope you're not disappointed!**

 **So, here we are with the penultimate chapter! I hope you all enjoy it, and if Ginny is a bit OOC I blame it on being a new mother.**

 **Disclaimer; I am but a mere Muggle and own only the plot.**

 **Chapter 22**

The moon hung high in the sky, and she was walking along a seemingly empty beach, when she heard it. The tiniest sound of a 'pop' that meant that someone nearby had just apparated. Perhaps if she had not lived through the war, she might not have noticed, but she instinctively drew her wand from its harness on her wrist, immediately preparing herself for fight or flight . Her eyes narrowed, reluctant at revealing where she was with 'lumos', and instead cast a quick disillusionment charm.

She had hidden herself away from the world in the week since James' birth, not leaving her cottage and calling in sick to work. She reassured herself that she wasn't entirely lying to her boss, as she was indeed throwing up every day, but deep down she knew that she simply couldn't stand seeing anyone else, ill or not. She had especially avoided the Weasleys, though she sent owls to the Potters asking about their son, and was very grateful that in their replies, Ginny never asked about her eldest brother. She couldn't bear the idea of seeing Bill again, and this was why she was so scared when, on the night of the full moon, she heard someone appearing.

Creeping across the beach until she no longer heard the stranger, she allowed herself a breath of relief. "They're gone." She thought, though out of habit she kept up her invisibility, as she headed silently into the forest that disguised her cottage. But then-

She knew it would be him. He'd been sending her owls several times a day since he'd turned up with Fleur, which she'd refused to open or even acknowledge. Every letter had been sent back, and she'd spent another few hours crying after each and every one. This was the first time she had dared to go outside, though she'd completely forgotten that tonight would be the moon's fullest, and something told her that she should leave immediately. But perhaps she could just see him for one brief moment...

The slightest rustling in the leaves, the snap of a branch; she had spent days dreading these, and now, someone was clamouring through the forest outside her wards. To say she was unnerved would be an understatement, but she followed regardless, and with silencing charms, tracked through the trees behind them.

Yes, it was him. His broad frame was moving through the woods ahead of her. Bill. Her Bill. But he couldn't see her, she knew. If he did, she would loose her resolve and either kiss him or disappear. But the sounds suddenly moved to be behind her, and she realised that in her thoughtful time, he had doubled around.

"I can feel your magic, you know." Said the person she was following, and she stumbled back, terrified, as the voice growled, "And I can smell you too..." It was _his_ voice that tortuously reminded her of her love for him. The voice that had gasped her name, hissed out his hatred for those that had hurt her, murmured his love for her. Comforted and calmed her, amused and adored her, whispered words of wonder and worship as his mouth ran across her neck. The same breath that had breathed across her body, the same lips that had devoured her own, the same man that had sworn himself to her.

She saw a face as she turned around, with wild hair, a scar-ridden face, and feral amber eyes. It was _his_ face that met her, his eyes like an animals excepting the love and pain that rested in them. They seemed to beg her as she gazed into them, and she felt her own fill with tears, as her feet began to move towards him instinctively. But she froze, the image of his wife and daughter surrounding him, the perfectly happy family burning through her mind. This was Bill, the same one that had lived with her and loved her, the same person who had given her the ring she still masochistically wore and made that promise, the same man that had _sworn himself to her_. Bill, the one who was married and with a daughter. Not hers.

And she promptly disapparated.

...

She arrived at the Leaky Cauldron and called for a pint. Then another, and another, and another. She didn't like the taste of the mead but after her seventh drink barely cared, her head swimming nauseatingly but her mind becoming more and more blank. It was an hour later, at quarter to one in the morning that she was to be found. Hermione Granger, stereotypically known as the 'smart one' of the Golden Trio, half collapsed at a dingy table in the corner of a pub, surrounded by empty pint glasses and stinking of booze. "'Mione!"  
She raised her head and gazed blearily at the one who'd interrupted her dozing. "Ron!" She slurred, smiling slightly. "What are you doing here?"  
He sat next to her. "I had to work overtime, I came in for a nightcap. We haven't seen you for a week, where have you been?"  
She giggled. "Been at home. Been icky."  
"Icky?" He asked, looking confused, making her laugh even harder.  
"Icky acky sick!"  
He rubbed her shoulder. "'Mione, maybe we should get you back home."  
She shook her head violently, before shaking off his hand and stumbling to the bar. "Two more pints please." She asked, handing over the money and returning to her seat. "Ronald, be a dear and get our drinks. I don't want to spill them." He frowned but stood up and did as she requested, bringing the two glasses back. "Thanks Ron, you're awesome."  
"Hermione, why are you drinking so much?"  
She held her head in her hands, hiding her scowl, though her voice was bitter. "Maybe I don't want to be the mature one all of the time. Maybe I want to get drunk and be stupid. Am I not allowed that?!" She demanded.  
Ron gazed at her misty eyes before shrugging and taking a sip of his drink. "Sure you're allowed to loosen up, 'Mione."

It was half past two when he finally convinced her to leave, and though she'd downed five more pints, he had yet to finish his first and was totally sober. "Come on," he encouraged as he supported her weight over his shoulders, "let's get you home."  
"No." She slurred. "I don't wanna go there. Can't get there anyway."  
He gave her a small smile. "Okay, how about you stay at my place tonight?" He led her over to the floo and called the address of his flat. She started giggling crazily when they arrived, stumbling her way to the liquor cabinet. "I think you've had enough of that." Ron said gently, leading her to the sofa and conjuring a glass of water.  
She gulped it greedily, before collapsing back on the cushions and laughing again. "You've wanted me here for a while, haven't you Ron?"  
He blushed crimson. "I think we'd better get you to bed, I'll sleep on the sofa."  
Leading her to his bedroom, he quickly waved his wand to tidy some of the dirty laundry away but Hermione had already collapsed onto his sheets. As he was leaving, he was halted by her insecure, miserable sounding voice. "Ron, did you mean it when you said you wanted to try again?"  
His face brightened and he sat beside her on his bed, stroking her hair away from her face. "Of course I did, 'Mione."  
"But why?"  
He kissed her cheek. "Because you're amazing. You're beautiful, brilliant, intelligent, loyal, and you've been my best friend for years." He met her gaze as he stroked her cheek lightly. "I love you Hermione Granger. I always will."

The mixture of alcohol and wanting to forget her own heartache made her whisper a contraceptive spell then wrap her hand around Ron's neck and pull him in for a kiss. It wasn't passionate and didn't make her heart pound like Bill's did, but she barely cared as her drunken brain turned off and merely saw a red-headed man kissing her neck softly. She tried to feel excited as he entered her, but had to fake her groans and thrusts, even tightening her inner muscles so he thought that she had come. And when his breaths became slower and deeper as he lay next to her, she knew he was asleep, and finally allowed herself to silently cry.

She woke up a few hours later, her head hurting and filled with shame, and she quickly let herself out of her friends flat, thanking Merlin that Ron was a deep sleeper. She went home and promptly packed up all of Bill's things, sending them to Gringotts and keeping only an old hoodie, her ring and the memories swirling in her pensieve to remember their time together by. She wrapped herself in the jumper and curled up on her sofa, falling asleep remembering happier times and smelling his scent.

...

She returned to avoiding everyone from that day onwards, and before she knew it, the wedding was upon them. Grimly, she dressed herself in a lilac dress she had bought when shopping with Ginny weeks ago, and brushed some make-up over her face, pulling her hair into a loose bun at the back of her neck. She apparated to the Burrow, painting a smile on her face, and greeted the group with fake cheer, avoiding Bill, Fleur and Victoire as if they were Death Eaters. She sat through the wedding and offered to look after little James so that Ginny and Harry could have a drink at the reception, rocking the baby to sleep and playing with him when he awoke. Her smile never once left her face, and she seemed to be truly happy when she congratulated George and Angelina, but as soon as she turned away her smile dropped and she held James' small hand sadly.

She didn't mean to listen to the whispered conversation as she took the baby for a short stroll in the night air, but couldn't help herself from being drawn to his voice like a moth to a flame as he argued in hushed tones with his sister. "What the bloody hell, Bill? What are you playing at, going back to that bitch?!"  
He was silent for a moment, and in her mind's eye she could see his distraught face. "I didn't have a choice, Ginny. She said if I left her she'd take Victoire away again, but not come back this time." Everything suddenly clicked into place; of course Fleur would be so confident, she had used her own daughter as blackmail.  
"And what about Hermione? You _know_ how much you mean to her!"  
"I've been trying to explain but she's avoiding me, and-"  
"Can you blame her?" She interrupted sharply.  
He gave a sigh, audible even from the distance. "Of course not."  
"Why does Phlegm even want you back?"  
"I don't know, something about French social conventions."  
" _What?!_ " Ginny didn't even attempt to quieten her shriek, and Hermione found herself shushing and rocking the child in her arms to calm him. "You're going back to that whore because of social fucking convention?! Hermione _loves_ you, you absolute bastard!"  
"I know, Ginny! Do you think I want to be back together with Fleur? It's not her I'm doing this for, it's Victoire!"  
Peering through the leaves, she saw Bill looking at his sister earnestly, though she only looked disgusted with him. "I get loving Victoire, but for Merlin's sake we have laws in this country. She can't just vanish like that."  
"She's already done it once, and if you remember the French Ministry weren't exactly helpful."  
"Then try again."  
"I can't risk it Gin!"  
Ginny merely shook her head at him, giving a look of disapproval rivalling her mothers. "Hermione is a fantastic woman, and you've broken her heart. I've never been more disappointed to call you my brother." And with this Mrs Potter stormed off and, trying to hide her tears from the now wide-awake infant, Hermione returned to the tent silently, leaving Bill alone to weep openly to the night air.

"Hey 'Mione." Came an awkward voice as she sipped her pumpkin juice and bounced James on her knee, making him squeal happily.  
She turned and gave a slight smile. "Hiya Ron. How are you?"  
He shuffled uncomfortably, sitting next to her. "I'm okay. You?" She shrugged. "Listen, 'Mione, I just wanted to apologise for the other night." She looked at him, confused, but he avoided her gaze. "You were drunk and obviously upset about something. I shouldn't have taken advantage."  
She laughed, much to his surprise. "Ron, I'm a big girl, I knew what I was doing."  
He gave a shy smile. "Oh, good. It's just, you know, no-one's heard from you in a while, so I thought you might be upset with me."  
She rested a hand on his arm. "I'm not." She started honestly; with everything that had been going on, she'd barely thought about that night, other than with a distinct feeling of shame. "I just needed some time away from everything."  
He nodded and they sat in companionable silence for a while, observing the guests. Her eyes inadvertently wandered to where the eldest Weasley child sat with his daughter on his lap, grinning as she told him a story. His deep blue eyes suddenly snapped up to meet hers, and the smile fell from his face as he made to stand up. She looked away and focussed on Ron, who was once again speaking. "...know that you've been busy and stuff, but I'd like to, if you would?"  
"Sorry, what was that?"  
He fidgeted slightly. "I was just wondering if you'd thought some more about us maybe trying again, 'cause I really want to. Dad, uh, well, he had a little talk with me, told me I've been acting like a prat really, you know, too clingy, drinking too much. I haven't been going about this the right way, I know, but that doesn't change how much you mean to me."  
She looked from him to his brother, who was still trying to disentangle himself from Victoire, and her heart sank. Somewhere within her she knew that Bill would never stop regretting their end if she carried on seeming upset, and she didn't have it in her to hurt him, despite the agony he'd caused her. She hated to use one of her best friends to this extent, but saw no other option to save the man she loved from pain, and besides, it would make Ron happy. The image of Bill's joyful face as he hugged his girl burned into the back of her eyelids, she smiled back at the red-head beside her, forcing her broken heart to hide. "I'd love to try again, Ron."

He kissed her cheek, grinning at her, before grabbing Harry to look after his son and dragging her up to the floor. She decidedly didn't look at Bill as Ron spun her around, and instead focussed on enjoying dancing with her old friend, nodding and smiling as he planned a date for them the day after next. Earlier than usual, she excused herself to head home, throwing up almost as soon as she'd walked through the door, and falling gasping and crying on her hallway floor.

Over the next month, she and Ron went on many dates, she didn't see Bill once, and her illness became worse and worse, until she was forced to cut one date short and return home to collapse on her sofa. She awoke a few hours later and had to sprint to the bathroom to throw up once more, placing a cold face-cloth over her forehead and wondering whether or not she should go to the doctor. The acrid taste of vomit lingering in her mouth, she ran a few diagnostic spells over herself, frowning when they all came up healthy. She racked through her mind to try to figure out when she had started being sick, and saw her face pale as she met her eyes in the mirror. She ran her fingers through her hair, shaking her head in denial, but she closed her eyes and steeled her nerves. "You are Hermione Granger." She told her reflection. "You helped defeat Voldemort. Now move."


	24. Chapter 23

**Final A/N Here I am for the last time, and I want to say one final thank you to everyone who has favourited and followed, read and reviewed. I imagine some of you may not be happy with this ending, but it's the ending I saw when I first had this idea. There is a slight possibility of a sequel in the future, but if I do end up writing it, it's going to be much darker and with much less fluff than MLG, so we'll have to see. With that, I'll leave you with one last, massive thanks!**

 **Chapter 23**

Nobody asked. The majority of people assumed, though were shocked, and simply congratulated the couple. Ginny, one of the few people who might have known, didn't ask, though whether that was because she suspected or didn't want to know, no-one would ever find out. Her mum and Toni also kept their silence. Ron, one of the most important people, didn't even know that there was any doubt regarding it. Hermione had no doubt either, but for once she accepted that the facts didn't matter.

The last one involved also knew. "It's not his." His voice travelled through the night towards her, as she stared through the canopy of trees in the Burrow's orchard. It was the night she and Ron had announced the news, and he had proposed to her, doing the 'right thing', which she had graciously accepted; their marriage would never have the passion of her and Bill's relationship, but she was confident they could live in satisfaction. Their years of knowing each other seemed to have made up for their short time of dating, in Mrs Weasley's opinion, although the news she had sprung on them all had helped her to accept the marriage to no end. She looked absently at the diamond ring next to her rose one, and smiled sadly.  
"It's as much his as Victoire is yours." She called back, turning her head to see Bill's sad face emerging through the trees.  
"I want to be there."  
She looked away and sighed. "You have a daughter who needs you."  
"And what about our child?"  
She closed her eyes regretfully. She had told Ron that she must have forgotten to cast a contraceptive charm on that night a month and a half ago, though she had definitely remembered doing so and was, in fact, two months pregnant, not one. "He or she will have a father." She whispered. "Ron will be a fantastic dad, I'm sure."  
He stood next to her, and she could feel his gaze boring into the back of her head. "I don't want Ron to be their dad. I'm his or hers dad." He wrapped his arms around her, resting his hands on her still-flat stomach and his chin on her shoulder. "I want this little one to be the start of our family. This _is_ the start of our family."

Much as she would've liked to stay there forever, feeling his warm breath against her skin and his familiar arms embracing her, she stepped away from the body she knew as well as her own, and turned to face him solemnly. "You already have a family, Bill. And enough families have been torn apart in the last few years. Victoire and my baby both deserve a safe, secure home, with a mummy, a daddy and none of the drama that we grew up with. We've lived, fought and been hurt to make a happy future for our children. Now we have the chance to give it to them."  
"She made me choose. She said that if I didn't take her back, I could never see Victoire again."  
"And that's exactly why you have to have your family, and I have to have mine."  
Bill was crying softly now, and he looked at her with imploring vulnerability, choking out, "But I love you."  
She gave him a half-smile and stroked his cheek gently. "I love you too. But if there's something we've all learnt, it's that sometimes we have to lose the people we love in order to make a better future." A single tear fell down her cheek as she took off the rose ring he had given her. "You should take this back, it should be Fleur's."  
He wrapped his hand over hers, sealing the ruby-encrusted band in her palm. "No, it's yours." He murmured. "Always."  
They gazed at one another before he leant down and lightly brushed his lips against hers. She tasted his salty tears on her lips before she stepped back and, crying softly, whispered, "You should go. Fleur will be looking for you." As if on cue, a French voice called through the night and, with one last regretful look in her direction, he walked away backwards, not turning away from her until the last moment.

She walked towards the boundaries of the Burrow, pausing briefly to call out, "You can come out now Ginny." She appeared through the trees, looking sheepish, and Hermione gave a half-hearted smirk and shrug. "I guess I should have known better than to have a private conversation when all of the Weasleys are around."  
She punched her arm lightly. "I'll have you know that I'm a Potter now." They walked in silence for a while, before she spoke again. "So that's it?"  
Hermione sighed. "How much did you hear?"  
"Enough. Are you really just going to lose Bill to Phlegm like this? When you know you love each other? And what about Ron and the child, you're going to lie to them?"  
She turned to face the younger woman with tears swimming in her eyes. "Love isn't always enough, Gin. Bill made his choice; he chose Victoire and I can't blame him for it, but now I have to think of a family for my own child. Lying is for the best this time. I've spent my whole magical life fighting to make a better world for everyone else. Now, more than ever, that means our children. I'll see you soon." And with that she disappeared.

...

He was always there. He was there to help her and Ron move into their new house, and painted the nursery with her, laughing as she haphazardly waved her wand to make the paint fly everywhere. He was there when her sickness became much worse, to make her soothing drinks and rub her swollen feet, whilst her fiancé cooked dinner. He was there when she was too far along to work any longer and was bored in the house, bringing her books and articles, and bringing Victoire to see her Auntie Herm-nee.

He was there when she got married, and danced with her as he felt her swollen stomach against his, whilst the rose ring he had given her rested on a chain around her neck. He was there when her waters broke, seemingly a month premature, and rushed with her to hospital as the others desperately tried to contact Ron. He was there when she gave birth, though his fingers were crushed and he couldn't kiss away her tears as he'd like to, instead smoothing her hair away as he calmed her.

He was there to hold their daughter for the first time, lightly brushing Hermione's temple with his lips as he placed the baby in her arms, murmuring sweet words of love to them both. He was there to see the child's eyes open and gaze in wonder at the pair of them, before giving a sleepy, child-like smile. He was there to excuse himself when Ron burst in, apologising profusely as he'd been on assignment, and asking if she and the baby were okay. He was there to hear Hermione say, "Ron, meet Rose Weasley."

He was there to babysit every Thursday evening, when Ron and her mother went to dinner and a movie together, making up for their previous lack of dating. He was there on her first birthday to buy her a toy broomstick, and to mutter reassuring words to Hermione when she began to fly around the garden. He was there when Ron came home drunk one night and 'Mione wanted to save her children from hearing them arguing, and so dropped them off at Shell Cottage. He was there the next morning to listen to her raging against his brother before taking her youngsters away again, and he was there to tell his brother to sort himself out when he arrived to do the same.

...

And he was there eleven years later, when Rose was about to embark for the first time to Hogwarts, and standing nervously with the Potters as Ron teased Albus. He grinned and opened his arms as she ran towards her favourite uncle, hugging him tightly but looking terrified. "Uncle Bill," she started nervously, as he tucked a strand of her thick red hair behind her ear, "Dad says that if I'm not in Gryffindor, he'll _disinherit me_! And if I marry a pure-blood Granddad will never forgive me! I don't want them to hate me!"  
He frowned a little at his younger brother's sense of humour, before crouching down and meeting Rose eye-to-eye. "Listen to me, Rose, your parents are going to be proud of you no matter what house you're in or who you're friends with."  
The young girl gnawed on her lower lip in a way so reminiscent of her mother that it made him want to cry. "Everyone says I've got my mum's brains, but what if I don't? I don't want to let them all down."  
He looked at her earnestly, gazing into eyes that were the exact same as his once-love's. "Rose Jean Weasley, your mother and father will always be proud of you. Let me tell you a secret, your mum used to be worried she'd let people down too, but she always did what she felt was right, even if it hurt her. And that's all you can do, darling, whatever you feel is right. My brother can be an idiot a lot of the time, but never doubt that your mum and dad love you, and always will." She threw herself into his embrace once more and, kissing the top of her head, he whispered, "Always."  
"Can I write to you?" The young girl asked nervously.  
He chuckled. "Of course you can. Now go on, I think they're getting ready to board." She hugged him once more, saying that she loved him, before running off to join the others. "I love you too." He murmured, before catching Hermione's eye. Her hand unconsciously flew to the rose ring that had hung around her neck for eleven long years, before she gave him a small smile and turned away to laugh at something her husband had said. "Always." He whispered once more, to the back of her head.

A few minutes later, after waving everyone goodbye, he stood and, ignoring the other Weasleys and Potters around him, went in search for one Teddy Lupin. He had to remind him once more that if he dared to hurt Victoire, he would ensure he wouldn't be able to sit down for a month. 'After all,' he thought, 'what kind of father would I be if I didn't look out for my little girl?'


End file.
